


Shades of Panic

by Abby_Ebon



Series: All That Glitters [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, The Mummy (1999)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-05
Updated: 2012-07-08
Packaged: 2017-11-09 05:52:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 30
Words: 69,935
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/452063
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Abby_Ebon/pseuds/Abby_Ebon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Landing in Ancient Egypt after killing a Dark Lord isn't a death sentence but it might as well be. Thankfully for Harry the daughter of the Pharaoh Seti, Nefertiri, has taken a liking to him. Unfortunately so has High Priest Imhotep. Ardeth x Harry, slash</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. One Dark Lord Down, One Manic Priest To Go

Two wands, with identical cores-fighting each other, will do more then spit out past spells the second time they lock. They destroy each other-and their wielders. At least, that is how it's _supposed_ to go. If it doesn't, well-Fate has something else up her sleeve for you.

Harry Potter didn't know that, he just knew that it would, hopefully-end Voldemort's reign of horror. When it came down to it, the boy hero would much rather sacrifice his life then let Voldemort live yet another year. It was supposed to be a last-resort-only option...it wasn't, at the age of eighteen, Harry Potter killed the Dark Lord Voldemort in this manner.

O.o.O.o.O.o.O

A burning wave of heat arched along his otherwise deadened body, his vision – unseeing, then turned milky-white, an explosion of pain resounded through the whole of his body. If Harry were to compare it to anything it would be or, really-alike to being _ripped_ to tiny pieces, then, almost as an after thought fit back together again.

A warped Humpty Dumpty of him self; his vision was still milky-white. Everything around him, which he could see, was, from the tips of his hair to his hands a...ghostly, soft, and _hazed_. Harry, from what he could remember (and he remembered quite a bit) had never seen anything like it. A figure appeared in his line of sight, appearing out of no-where he was alarmingly... _clear_ to his vision-inhumanly so.

" _Who are you_?" Harry's voice, he was surprised to hear, echoed in this off-white place. Until the man had appeared, Harry thought he had been without his glasses, but he had realized that where ever he was – it was _naturally_ this way. Creamy colored, hazy almost to the point of blurring himself. There was, literally, nothing wrong with Harry's eyes – at least as far as seeing the man was concerned.

It was as if...as if Harry, when he had been "fit back together again" had indeed been re-shaped to another's liking. In this case – his eyesight was perfect, Harry wondered though – what else had this 'being' seen fit to do to him?

" **I have gone by many names; used many faces. You, Harry James Potter, are to know me as I am – Death."** The man's voice was cool, calm, Harry _knew_ with a certainty that went bone deep and crossed every instinct he had, that this man – Death, he wasn't joking about _who_ and – essentially, _what_ he was.

Harry's insides chilled at this realization, his heart caught in his throat-he couldn't speak. Couldn't even think, when he did, his first thought shocked him. _Death_ , Harry thought, _was beautiful_.

 _This_ , Harry realized when he thought about it-and had taken the proper amount of time to _look_ at Death, _was true_.

Death, much like Harry, had dark hair. Midnight black hair fell like waves down his back, brushing mid-waist; his eyes were like the night sky-entirely black, with the secrets of ages older then the stars inside – seeming to shine out.

Death, as Harry had thought, was pale – yet was not shallow, it was (if Harry were to be ' _romantic'_ about it) creamy. His lips were full, red, and Harry wondered what a kiss from Death would be like.

At his reflection, Harry thought he saw amusement arch across those night-sky eyes.

" **You _are_ Harry Potter**." Death insisted, Harry jerked – nodding, then freezing, he hadn't known he was _supposed_ to respond when Death had introduced himself. If he was, what was he to say to Death? 'Killed anyone interesting, lately?' _That_ would certainly result in an Ice Age.

Death's dark eyes were suddenly focused, alert, as if Harry had done something of dire interest – it was very intimidating to be stared at like that. All of it focused, staring him in the face.

 _No_ , Harry realized suddenly, Death's eyes weren't staring him in the _face_. They were staring _through_ him, _into_ him. Harry decided to say something after all, so Death wouldn't find something... _wrong_ , with him. Harry didn't really grasp why, but quite suddenly, it was _important_ to him that Death not think anything was ' _wrong'_ with him.

" _Y-yes, I am_." Harry answered-for it seemed the only thing he could do, besides just stand there. It was the truth after all, he _was_ Harry Potter. Death's attention drifted off, and Harry was at once both relieved and struck with jealousy over whatever now held Death's attention.

" **You were not supposed to die,"** Death told him, quite sternly, as if Harry was supposed to be able to go back and change time, " **under the laws of Justice,** **my sister rules that you have two choices..."** Death smiled, Harry paid it notice, but his mind was caught on what Hermione would think if she heard _Justice_ and _Death_ were _siblings_. It was, to Harry somewhat of a great puddle of irony.

 **"If you so chose, you** **may relive the event of your death; until it plays out correctly..."** _Not bloody likely!_ Harry thought, his expression of mixed disbelief, and desperation, caused Death to chuckle.

" **Or..."** _There is a 'or' thank you, Justice!_ If Justice had appeared, and Death had pointed her out – Harry could have kissed her. **"You are to go where, and when, you are needed**."...Or kick her. It just _figured_ Justice would be a bitch.

Harry bit his lip; it was obvious between the two of them which Harry would choose. Finally, Harry opened his mouth-and Death seemed to gather himself from his horde of lost souls, and long thoughts.

" _I will go where, and when, I am needed_." Harry told him truthfully, why would he lie to Death after all? Death was only the most stunning being Harry had ever set eyes on, and he wanted Death to think well of him.

Death seemed not to sense his inner turmoil, or if he did, and paid attention to it – Death did not let on to Harry that he had. Regardless, Death nodded, and took three steps closer, mere centimeters separating them. " **Then...I will wait for you, Beloved."** Harry felt himself freeze. _Death loved him?_ Harry's eyes went wide. As Death, his eyes sad somehow, smiled, leaned down, and kissed Harry boldly on the lips. In a dizzyingly blissful moment Harry disappeared, and Death was left alone.

O.o.O.o.O.o.O

When Harry came to awareness, he found himself surrounded by sand, standing on it. With nothing within sight but _miles_ of hot sand, it was, to say the least – a bit disturbing. The sand was pearly white in the moonlight; it spilled over the sand, calming, cooling, and somehow...reassuring. Harry remembered the look in Death's eyes – and his kiss. He shivered pleasantly, wonderingly, and then it occurred to him, crashing into his blissful moment of memory. If he was meant to go "where he was needed" _why_ would he be needed in a desert?

If, this made no sense, then, perhaps Death was nothing but a dream. The backfiring of the wand cores could have sent him to a desert. So, that left Harry; wandless, delusional, but alive. If this was true, Harry hoped Voldemort was not so lucky. Harry sighed in disappointment, his 'delusion' shattered. He swallowed down the bile gathering in his dry throat; Harry then started to walk, aimlessly, yet hoping for the right direction.

Walking on sand was something new he had to get used to-for Harry had never done it before. He had to move carefully with his weight, one displacement of balance-and he started to sink into the sand. He had to move quickly, or else the sand would creep up on him. In other words, he had to move with purpose-even if there wasn't one to be seen. He scanned the area around him; each step led him closer to a rise-a mountain of sand, Harry hoped it would give him perspective of the nearby area. Hoping he'd see something else other then sand. Hell, he'd settle for _Death-Eaters_. Finally, he made it up the sand hill; he bent at the waist, leaning his weight on his knees as he gripped them, just pausing long enough to gain his balance. And, Harry would admit only to himself – to catch his breath.

As he looked up – he caught sight of a stone, glittering in the light of the moon, the little pebble-sized black stone lay in the pearl-white sand, seemingly abandoned by time, it brought prangs of memory raining down onto his heart. Harry picked it up, looking it over closely; seeing it, Harry realized it's likeness to Death's eyes was undeniable; Harry _knew,_ somehow, that it was meant to be his. He clenched it in his fist, and rose from his half-kneeling state, and looked out over the landscape that surrounded him. There was sand, of course; but something _else_ in the distance.

Nestled between the shadows of two great dunes, was a great palace. Even from so far away, Harry saw the sand give way to fertile earth; trees – the like of which he had never seen, yet trees nonetheless, grew in even spaces beside the palace. It was a long way off-but Harry thought he could walk it before sunrise. If not, he knew to wait till dusk rather then die of wandering in the wrong direction. Harry set out then, with a real destination set firmly in his mind. As Harry walked along the rise of the sand hill, he wondered what he would say to them.

If, indeed, he could _explain_ his presence; they would be suspicious, and have every right to be. Harry had never been out of his homeland before, and therefore, he did not know what to expect. Would these people-who had his fate in their hands, even know what a wizard _was_? Would they expect him to prove it, even without his wand? Harry stumbled on the sand, the stone in his grip shuddered, and Harry opened his fingers to look down at it. At first, he could not believe what he saw. The stone shuddered again, warm to the touch, and slowly melted-then _disappeared_ into his skin. Harry shook his head-was it possible that this desert, even in the night, was giving him delusions? Not wanting to wonder about things he had no control over, Harry decided this was so-and continued on.

As he walked, Harry saw the palace coming into sight; it _was_ huge-and he expected he would have to walk quite a while more to reach it, yet even from this distance he could see the giant stone columns of marble that linked the high ceilings to the palace floor. A long staircase met the sand, a staircase Harry now walked upon, even as it continued to the palace. Along the way to the palace, on this staircase, Harry saw many statues of Gods and Goddesses he did not understand-having never studied myths. Most were half man, or woman, and half animal; some entirely animal-and all had writing on them, all of which blurred and stretched in his sight. Harry wondered then if these people had some form of spell on them; to ensure that he, or others who saw this place, would not see the true names of their Gods and Goddesses.

Finally, Harry came to the place were staircase met palace, and stopped, feeling too much like an intruder. He called out, and his voice echoed among the great pillars and statues. Harry felt suddenly light headed and dizzy, Harry felt something rush though him-and leave; he thought it felt like a spell of intent, Harry found himself falling to the polished floor. He blinked back the familiar blurry-white sight. As he was shaking it off, Harry was relieved to hear voices coming toward him; footsteps, and the glare of torchlight running through the shadows. Perhaps it was bad timing, but Harry's body then gave out on him, and he fell unconscious-just as the place dwellers came into sight. Behind his back, the sun rose.

O.o.O.o.O.o.O

Harry awoke in a shadowed room; even though he knew, somehow, that it was day. A woman sat beside him – she was dressed in fine, if odd, clothes. When Harry asked her name, she shook her head, a light frown pressing down her lips. It was obvious she did not understand what he said. She called out; a man-a clear leader, and a set of six guards, entered the room. He looked down on Harry, judged him-as a man would a subject, and then spoke, it was Harry's turn to be confused. The language was alike to nothing he had ever heard before; but it was lovely to hear. The man frowned, and then looked to his guards-called out a name, Imhotep–then looked down at Harry again.

The woman touched his shoulder, pointed to her self and spoke her name, slowly, so Harry could understand it. Nefertiti. Harry looked to the man, he looked amused-as if he didn't think Harry would understand her. As if Harry were savage, because he was different then them, far different; they had rich golden skin, they were lean, attractive and very exotic-lovely to behold, like art. Harry was suddenly bitter– somewhat resentful, for next to them he was a pale shadow; and what could Death possibly see in him, next to people like these, to call him 'beloved'?

Harry felt a strong urge to prove he _could_ speak, could learn; that he _could_ prove himself, _somehow_ , next to them. Harry mimicked her-and spoke his name, Harry. _Harii_ was what their ears heard. The man looked startled, saw him again; looked at him with newly measuring dark eyes.

Almost in mockery, he pointed to himself, and spoke his name _Seti_. Harry swallowed, the bitter and resentful feelings washing away in a chilling thought. He knew of only one 'leader' in all the history of the world who'd called himself Seti. Harry had learned of him when Ron, got back from his vacation in Egypt-had shown off to Hermione that he had, in fact, bothered to learn _something_. Harry had never forgotten it – for it had proved to be amusing. Seti, Harry knew, was an Ancient Egyptian King of more then three-thousand years ago...Death, it seemed, had a _lot_ to answer for.


	2. In Which We Learn To Act Like A Egyptian

" _Seti_ …" Harry found himself echoing, the other man- the Pharaoh Seti, looked down at him in surprise. Harry – Harii, had spoken his name as one of Seti's people might. Nefertiri looked very pleased indeed, and her father chuckled at the smug look on his daughters face.

" _You see, Father? He can speak correctly._ " Nefertiri insisted, and Harry blinked up at her- he _understood_ her, yet every word echoed upon itself into warped English.

" _We shall see, Daughter_." Seti glanced at the door. Harry watched wide-eyed as a man, imposing, tall- and bald, entered the chambers. The others looked upon him with mild distaste; not for whom he was, the High Priest, but that his appearance was objectionable in their eyes- baldness in this land, was frowned upon.

" _This is the man who saved you, Harii_." Nefertiri whispered into his ear. The man, Imhotep, looked down upon him, and something inside Harry screamed that he should get away. Harry shoved it down- later he would have wished he'd obeyed it. Harry nodded very carefully to Imhotep, who looked him up and down, carefully, and something alike to approval and lust flickered in his dark gaze.

" _Thank you._ " Harry found himself saying, Imhotep nodded acknowledgement. Harry wondered what they heard when he spoke- was it like when they spoke to him, he hoped he didn't echo and warp it.

" _I trust you are well rested, Harii?_ " Imhotep softly to him, kohl lined eyes dark. Neither Nefertiri, nor Seti, seemed to think anything was wrong with the High Priest asking this. Nonetheless Harry nodded, otherwise silent, and frowning only slightly, Imhotep addressed him again.

" _Where do you come from?_ " Seti questioned, clearly suspicious of a man who had wondered through the desert at night- only to collapse on the palace steps in the morning. Harry sighed; he knew _this_ question would have came up- although he had _hoped_ he wouldn't be asked it while resting prone and defenseless, in a chamber surrounded by the guards of an ancient ruler.

He _should_ have known better.

" _It doesn't matter, I am alone_." Harry muttered, slightly bitter in this; Nefertiri looked down at him with sorrow in her eyes. Harry was just glad it wasn't pity; Seti looked down at him in surprise.

" _You are an outcast?_ " Seti asked in disbelief – for one did not travel in the desert with no destination unless they were outcast or bandit. And despite Harry's clearly foreign appearance, he did not look like a bandit, thief, or outcast.

Harry laughed, and really – he couldn't help it. Ironic, he knew, to be the hero of his time, and thought an outcast in another. Nefertiri and Seti looked between each other, and then to Imhotep, who frowned down at the teenager. Seeing their looks, Imhotep shrugged.

" _Perhaps some form of sun-sickness_." The High-Priest attempted to enlighten them of the stranger's odd behavior. The odd behavior explained; they let the teenager finish in his laughter. Although, both Nefertiri and Imhotep thought something was _off_ in the way he laughed- as if it pained him. They did not question him, although Nefertiri tilted her head down at him.

" _Perhaps… it would be best if we announced his arrival during the duel tonight_." Nefertiri said, Seti looked to his daughter and frowned slightly. The guards knew of all the royal family held within the palace, and to announce a stranger in the presence of so many, was to invite him to stay for _far_ longer then some of the ambassadors from foreign lands were allowed.

" _If you are sure Daughter?_ " Seti probed, and Nefertiri nodded, quite firm in her decision. Harry, it seemed, wound not get a choice in whatever either of them were planning. Which, honestly, was to be expected- rulers were not in the habit of considering strangers from no-lands equals.

" _We should get him cleaned up, if, as your Daughter insists, he is to watch her duel with Anck-su-namun_." Imhotep told them, Nefertiri nodded in agreement- yet still clearly wary of the High Priest. While Seti merely grinned, and clasped Imhotep on the shoulder.

" _I trust you and your fellow priests shall do a fine job!_ " Imhotep nodded solemnly, and Seti motioned for Nefertiri to follow him out.

" _Come Daughter, let us go greet my Future-Wife._ " Harry watched them leave, and their guards- until all that remained were Imhotep, and four of his priests.

0oo0oo0oo0oo0oo0

Harry had never been more uncomfortable and embarrassed in his life – a fact Imhotep still seemed to take great amusement in, standing beside Seti- and watching Anck-su-namun and Nefertiri duel in cat-masks.

 _I guess I know where the term 'cat-fight' came from_ … Harry was more then slightly amused by this.

Imhotep caught his eye, and Harry blushed- a fact most of these people took great amusement in. For, because Harry was so much paler then those around him – his blushes were the most _noticeable_.

Unwillingly, Harry remembered what had happened in the chamber after Seti and the others had left. Harry made a point of watching Anck-su-namun and Nefertiri finish their duel – all the while remembering.

0oo0oo0oo0oo0oo0

" _Stand please_." Imhotep had asked, although Harry knew it was more of an order. Imhotep gave him something to drink- his face expressionless. Harry, suspicious smelt it- it smelt of some herb.

" _It will help with the sun-sickness_." Imhotep told him, a mild rebuttal to Harry. Harry, swallowing down his suspicions- and drowning the voice inside his head that sounded like Mad-Eye Moody yelling at him for his stupidity, drunk the substance.

He felt the effects quite quickly, time seemed to blur and slow, nonetheless Imhotep's priests descended upon him. Striped him of his robe, his baggy clothes, and _everything_ else underneath- and Harry tried to struggle, tried to yell- but couldn't. They had swiftly applied a skin cream- and Harry _did not want to know_ what was in it.

He looked wide eyed at Imhotep – asking with his eyes what they were doing- why they were doing this to him. Then, taking out a _thing_ that would have looked like a hatchet, if not for the curved handle, Imhotep stepped into Harry's personal space. Harry found he held his breath, and Imhotep – seeing his, smirked.

" _Stay still_." The amused High-Priest ordered. Then, much to Harry's shock, Imhotep started to use the 'razor' to shave off _every little bit_ of hair Harry had. As Harry didn't want to end up with cuts- Harry stood stone still, in a drugged daze, the priests keeping him still where he would have struggled.

By the time Imhotep was through, or Harry _thought_ he was- _everything_ from underarms to his arms, chest, and legs – and a lot in-between had been shaved. Then Imhotep started to go _down there_ , and Harry tensed, squeaking out a whimper, Imhotep noticed (how could he not?) and looked up at him with a raised eyebrow.

" _Do you want lice?_ " Was the High-Priest's droll question, while Harry didn't in fact want lice, he did insist (by pointing his eyes in their direction) that one of the other priests do _that_. One of the other priests, who, Harry didn't think, wanted to _screw_ him quite as badly as Imhotep did.

It was quite _obvious_ (what with the firm touches, and deadly razor-blade caresses) that Imhotep was more interested in Harry then Harry thought he should be allowed to be. When they were quite finished (having also decided at last minute that his eyebrows and nose hairs needed a trim) with shaving his body (except his head-hair, Harry was relieved to know they left all of it) - they started on the _makeup_. Harry felt the effects of the drug slowly lifting, though he knew they weren't gone completely. He had no idea how much time had passed…

Harry found out later that they had some _very_ good reasons for using the eye shadow-like stuff and skin cream. Apparently, the kohl protected their eyes from the sun. Although Harry didn't see the reason _why_ his kohl had to be grey on the eyebrows and eyelid, and blue on the bottom – it made him look even _more_ feminine.

The skin cream, he learned rather uncomfortably, was a mix of alligator fat and plant extracts- it was _supposed_ to smooth and soften skin. It served to make Harry _itchy_ …although to be fair, it was 'improved' with the pungent scents of some flowers and herbs – so that could have been a part of the reason it irritated his skin.

It was also supposed to hide body odor – Harry thought it worked rather well, if you didn't mind the slick cream that made holding anything a potential hazard. Though, that too may have been why Harry thought he heard one of the priests whisper that he had soft hands, and must be very important where he came from – because soft handed people didn't need to do work.

Harry was then dressed ( _finally_ ) in white linen, which was more then _slightly_ see-through, enough that he might as well have not been dressed at all. Harry didn't protest this though; because he reasoned that some fabric between his body and Imhotep's eyes was better then none at all.

He was then ornamented in a necklace of colorful jeweled stones, gold bracelets and armbands, and an ivory ring with a gold beetle atop of it. Imhotep explained that it showed Seti's – and the rest of the royal family's approval of him.

Then, as if to mock him, Imhotep put him in a wig of _human_ hair, straitened, which fell to his shoulders. Then a cone of ox tallow scented with myrrh was placed atop that, and because Harry could now feel his lips and tongue- and his body was beginning to tingle uncomfortably, he made an effort to speak.

" _Why_?" Harry crocked out, Imhotep smirked at him. " _It was perfectly harmless,_ _Harii, I assure you, and the effects of the potion are short-lived. Tonight there is to be entertainment followed by a banquet. The cone will melt, and instead of getting into your hair – will go onto the wig, face, and clothes. You would not want to embarrass Seti or Nefertiri, now would you?"_

Imhotep then looked him over, and gave him sandals, and then he and his priests led Harry to where Seti, Anck-su-namun, and Nefertiri awaited them with the others of the household. Harry was careful to sit as far from Imhotep as he could.


	3. Why Death Is A Jealous Lover

Death was beyond fury, he was in a cold rage.

The other Immortals watched in stunned amazement as one of the five most powerful Immortals froze, _literally_ , everything in his path to the Hall of Balance. Death was known for his tranquil nature, the sheer amount of patience he held was legendary. So, this, the Immortals knew, was something important.

" ** _Sisters_**!" Death howled- his normally calm nature utterly and completely snapped. Almost at once, his summoned sisters arrived. The four stood in front of him, baffled, and beginning to _fear_ for their brother, who was normally more controlled then this.

" **Death? You felt like … _Chaos_ …what is wrong**?" The youngest, Eternity, who worked with Death in the afterlife, and was the Immortal guardian and watcher of time, was the first brave enough to speak.

" ** _Wrong_**?" Death hissed, his normally black and stared eyes blazing like a supernovae. " ** _What is wrong_ ….I'll tell you what is _wrong_ , 'Nit, my soul-mate is _mortal_ , and under the laws of balance, he must complete a task**." Death snarled, mashing his growing fangs together.

" ** _Mortal_? But that makes no _sense_ ; soul-mates must be equals…**" The eldest, Love, who was the only surviving Immortal of The Creation, spoke as she rarely did. Death turned to her, then to the middle two – the Immortals twins, Justice and Discord.

They glanced between each other, opposites- yes, but two agreeing halves of the same coin. Discord tilted her head at Death, and smirked. They knew now how a mortal had been born with the potential to be Immortal.

" **WHY**?" Death snarled, and Justice stepped forward for her sister.

" **The end result will be that same, Death, he will _become_ an Immortal. We had to test him, there are _consequences_ if an Immortal is born in a modern era, and you _know_ this**." Justice declared, stubborn, and Death gestured his hand at the air beside where the sisters stood.

A mirror appeared, and Harry and Imhotep within it; a close-up of Imhotep's hand intimately touching the small of Harry's back. Love, who rarely sided with Justice – snarled at her.

" **So you will make him endure _three thousand years_ of living in the past?** " Love hissed, brown-black eyes flashing amber. Eternity sighed, rubbing her eyes. " **Travel to and from times is no issue for us, but it will change Harry – unless something is done to ensure otherwise**." Eternity, Death's closest sister, spoke.

" **Imhotep, the mortal, is doomed- we all feel it, he is to be cursed with the Hom-dai**." Discord told them, her sisters nodded in agreement, Death turned to her, a question in his blazing eyes. Discord bit her lip, and spoke, revealing a plot the others hadn't known.

" **I've put it in the minds of the mortals that if this should happen, he should have an eternal guardian - to awaken if, no – when he does** ," she continued weakly, " **Harry is to be this guardian.** " Death exhaled, his breath showing up, as if it was freezing around them – it wasn't, but _he_ was.

" ** _No_**." Death growled, not willing to believe it. Discord glanced to Justice, who looked away from her shamed.

" **I'm sorry, I didn't know he was your soul-mate, just that he was to be Immortal, wasn't meant to hurt him –or _you_ …**" Discord cowered, fearful of Dearth rage, but her brother's fury suddenly seemed to drain out of him. Death looked to Eternity, and Eternity knew what he asked.

" **I will watch over them while you are away. Fear not, go fashion yourself a body for when he awakes – I know you Death** ," Eternity continued when he looked surprised that she knew his thoughts – for he was only going to say he would be away for a while, " **you are not one to let your soul-mate fight one cursed by the Hom-dai alone**." Death kissed her on the cheek, knowing that Eternity would watch out for their sisters- and collect the dead souls. Death left his sisters in silence.

" **He will not forgive you for many millenniums**." Eternity whispered- Discord nodded, and Justice glanced to her sister. " **I have never seen him so furious**." She whispered, awed and frightened by her brother's rage.

" **You would not remember, but Death does not devote himself to another so completely easily, and in all his time – he has had but one other lover…** " Eternity trailed off, for she only knew the story of the Immortal War from Love – for Death never spoke of it.

" **Who? Do we know her – or him?** " Discord asked, curious despite her self. Love shook her head, and turned to them.

" **No, and prey you never will. Death's love was what some say caused the War. He loved Chaos – and Chaos did not care for him as we had hoped he would. As a result, at the end of the War – at the cost of many of the Elders and Ancients, Chaos was locked away forever into the Between by Death.** " Love told them, her silver eyes trailed over them, and then she looked to the ice on the floor and pathways, and left her sisters in thought.

As for Death, he went to gather the last of his two souls – and to visit Harry.

O.o.O.o.O.o.O

After the duel between Anck-su-namun, and Nefertiri, Harry found out that Anck-su-namun was to be Seti's Future-Wife _and_ body-guard; Nefertiri was to be the protector of the Bracelet of the Scorpion King.

A banquet was held, as Imhotep had told him, Anck-su-namun sat on one side of Seti –and Nefertiri, on his other side. After an announcement of Harry's stay at the palace, they ate. Harry only ate what he recognized; which was beef, and what had obviously been a fowl of some sort.

This celebration, from the start, promised to last a long time, and it wasn't very long before some were led stumbling away – drunk. Seti announced he would go on a chariot ride, before dusk, and there were many murmurs of approval.

When Seti left, it was near _noon_ –Anck-su-namun snuck away, giving Harry a look – as though she _knew_ what Imhotep had done –and blamed Harry. As the _evening_ drew to a close, Nefertiri, claiming need of rest, managed to get Harry out of the party.

She had claimed she needed someone to guild her to her rooms – although Harry had no idea where her chambers were, and was quite puzzled as to why she wanted him to accompany her.

The party died down even more, and once in her chambers they went to the balcony, so to speak – well, Harry was _considering_ interrogating her – that was, before he caught sight of Imhotep and Anck-su-namun kissing, locked in a heated embrace.

Nefertiri seeing this from her balcony did not seem surprised. Her eyes narrowed – she had obviously known this was likely to happen- and had wanted Harry to witness it – so her father could no blow off her idle palace 'gossip'.

" _This, Harii, is what I have brought you here to witness. I have tried to warn my father, but he sees me as a child still. Perhaps, I hope, he will take your word for it_." Harry, however, saw Death standing peacefully against the wall in the chamber, seeing Harry saw him, he nodded to him.

Although, Death then turned back to sneer at Imhotep and Anck-su-namun- he had a fiercely dark, almost a look black joy, in his eyes – and Harry knew _something_ would happen which would change Nefertiri's plans.

Then, Seti strode into the chamber containing the two; Imhotep hid away, and Harry had a sick feeling he knew what would befall the man. Harry, standing silently with Nefertiri watched, stunned and struck speechless, as Imhotep killed Seti with his own sword.

Nefertiri cried out for her father's sacred body-guards; even as Harry watched as Death pulled Seti's soul from his body…and _waited_.

The guards went into the room; saw their leader dead at the feet of Anck-su-namun – then she announced the obvious, and killed herself – Imhotep already fleeing into the night – long gone.

Harry found himself holding Nefertiri as she cried, Harry knew her to be the newly made leader of her people. Even if the duty came too soon in her eyes; she was crowned and likewise vowed revenge for her father's murder, she lured Imhotep back to Thebes, by giving Anck-su-namun death-rites as a minor noble, and as such, her crypt was easy to steal her body from.

Nefertiri sent her priests and royal guards there, where they captured Imhotep, and preformed the Hom-dai. Harry knew they were to do this, but he'd never know what would happen later – only that his body found itself in Hamunaptra; encased near Imhotep's for three thousand years – to sleep for eternity, whole and unblemished, as if an Immortal.

Only Death had seen, and felt, the link between Imhotep and his beloved formed – and he knew he would have to wait to sever it.


	4. Immortal Sleep Till The 'Dead' Do Wake

Death watched- it was one thing to lose his temper in the Immortal realm – in one of their havens; it was quite a different matter to lose it while in the mortal realms. Nature protested such uncontrolled emotion, and the between of Immortal and mortal realms crossed.

Here, he kept it under tight reign, ready to flee to the Immortal realm if his emotions threatened his control.

Death could see into the natures of mortals – and Immortals, occasionally this swayed him from taking a mortal, more often then not though, it simply wasn't their time to die. Everything had a time which it would cease to be, most accepted this – few knew the exact time they would crease to be.

None of that kept him from seething as Imhotep openly watched _his_ mate. Brought attention to him from other priests; the priests of the living-'gods', and by consequence – the future-wife of Seti - Anck-su-namun.

She was an opportunist in love – but not with Seti, with his High Priest, Imhotep. The High Priest did not love her, though he did not fear to use her as a way to gain power.

To pave the way for his reign, for Anck-su-namun had a gift – untested, but there. Death did not doubt that Imhotep saw it as well, while Nefertiri could see into the past; Anck-su-namun could see into the future.

This alone would be enough for Imhotep to seek to bring her back from the dead.

Death knew she and Seti would die tonight- and that Imhotep would risk bringing her back – and fail.

He did know that Harry would be soul linked to the High Priest.

Death did not know _how_ though…

0oo0oo0oo0oo0oo0

Harry slept in the room he had awoken in. Three days had passed since the death of Seti, and Nefertiri's trap for him was set and waiting in Hamunaptra, all they had to do was wait. And waiting, Harry knew, was the most difficult part of the task.

The night Imhotep and his priests were captured; Harry lay asleep in his bed. Behind the back of Nefertiri, her priests of the "living" gods plotted to ensure that Imhotep stayed dead – cursed by the Hom-dai, or not.

One of their priests, planted among those to curse Imhotep – planted a feather of a hawk – a lock of Harry's hair entwined, into the bandages wrapped around Imhotep. They knew it would degenerate, and sink into his very being- linking Harry to him.

In Harry's room, they preformed a spell that he would not wake – and stole him away on a caravan bound for Hamunaptra. In the dawns light, they would tell their new queen the stranger had wondered away in the night of his own free will, and they had lost him.

Death despised lies, and vowed to see their afterlife experience was an unpleasant one. On swift wings of the night, Death followed, keeping watch as they went about tasks he could not interfere in.

Mixing the blood of Imhotep and the blood of the hawk the feather had been taken from, and a drop of the mixed blood was made to fall into Harry's mouth.

The hawk was given to Horus; to ensure his mother (Isis) and fathers (Osiris) favor of the bonding – and that Harry would remain untouched by age until Imhotep awoke.

0oo0oo0oo0oo0oo0

Ardeth Bey watched a man walk into the desert, to face certain death rather then what lay behind him, Hamunaptra – city of the dead. Where evil slept, and where his dreams lured him.

He denied those dreams such – of going into the dead-city, of finding something he had lost long ago. Something that made his soul ache – yet something he could not always picture. Sometimes, he thought it was a boy, other times…

Ardeth shook off his thoughts as one of the people he led asked if they should follow the American, to ensure the kill.

He did not know why – but he spared the man.

Instead, he and the rest of the Ma-jei returned to their camp.

Three years later… he _dreamed_ ….

0oo0oo0oo0oo0oo0

He was darker, more sinister. If he was mortal – they would have called him evil for lack of understanding. Egypt grew dark around him, nightfall- and his power was more aware under the moonlight.

He watched, hidden by shadows – by a veil mortals wouldn't hesitate to call magic. But it wasn't – it was his very essence. He watched in fury as a man approached a woman, kissed her – bringing Death, himself – to her.

Smudged the scared markings, touched her. Rage bubbled along the surface as he watched. He was not angry at the woman – but the man, he would gladly rip his soul apart.

Beyond them- on a balcony stood the daughter of one the most powerful men in this land, beside her…his rage and fury melted away, leaving hopelessness – and a familiar ache.

 _"Harii."_ He heard _his_ name, spoken by the girl beside him. He buried his resentment – he knew he had a task. Suddenly, a man swooped into the room- he was the girl's father; the woman's future-husband, the ruler of this land.

He saw the woman's marking smeared, questioned her, only then did he die by his own sword. The girl on the balcony cried out- the sacred guards entered, and saw their master dead at the woman's feet. She died. The man ran away…

All mortals left the room. Only the dead remained – and their souls. He took them to his realm – let them find their afterlife.

0oo0oo0oo0oo0oo0

Ardeth cried out as he awoke, drawing the worried glances of his companions. He answered their worried inquires mindlessly, caught on the realization of what he had dreamed. A realization of what something beyond him had been trying to warn him of…

' _He'_ , Ardeth realized – the Dark One whom he had shared the ancient past with, had been _Death_ – **the** Death. Ardeth decided to go visit an old friend, someone he hoped would give his nightmare – no, vision, peace.

The next morning – he and two others set out for Cairo.

"Ah, Ardeth – I'm glad you've come when you have. We've a bit of a problem." The curator of the museum that kept more secrets then it showed; spoke to him – even as he came out of hiding.

Ordinarily arriving at someone's home or place of work without notice would be punishable; the Ma-jei who worked to keep the city, and those of them who worked to keep it from the public, saw it as a game.

Nonetheless, Ardeth tilted his head, and Dr. Bey smiled, continuing the conversation.

"It concerns one of my librarians, she's a clumsy child, as you can see from my library, yet…her brother seems to have stumbled onto a map to Hamunaptra, and the _key_." Ardeth narrowed his eyes – his mind raced, the key had been lost three years ago – around the same time that…

….that he had let _that_ American live….

"Did you retrieve it?" Ardeth asked, yet he knew the answer – Dr. Bey would not be so worried if he had had the key, all they would have to do would track the girl and her brother and scare them away from the city.

Now, they had to retrieve the key – without letting them onto what they had. Dr. Bey shook his head in denial, then Dr. Bey watched as Ardeth and his men raced to the prison.

There, they had received disturbing news from a prison guard who was also a Ma-jei. A librarian and her drunken brother had arrived, claiming to be missionaries; they had struck a deal with the warden for the man, O'Connell, who Ardeth had spared.

Already they were on there way to the city. _More_ disturbing, so were some other Americans – claiming to have another man (this one Ardeth hadn't known lived) who had been to the city of Hamunaptra.

Hundreds of thousands of years of protecting the city, and only now – when Ardeth was leader, did it seem to be facing certain discovery. Relentless, that night they planned an attack to retrieve the key…


	5. The Impossible and The Improbable

High overhead a cloud slipped over the moon. They, the only three Ma-jei, and Ardeth, the only ones he had managed to gather, remained as silent as they could. They are all that stand in the way of the key reaching Hamunaptra.

Very swiftly they were catching up to the large ship, even clustered together as they were in a canoe-like boat, it slipped silently through parting waters- easing its way alongside the large carrier ship.

Wary of a technology they had little patience for, Ardeth and his men snuck onto the ship, he motioned swiftly for one of his men to follow the woman returning to her cabin – the one who held the key.

The rest of his men lay in wait –only stirring when they smelt the smoke, then chaos broke out as they and the others on the ship saw the smoke – huge black bellowing clouds of it.

Flames and sparks creeping out of the cabin; someone – likely the American man who just moments before – having spotted wet footprints, went in after the woman, started shooting, further panicking the rest. The American and the woman rush out of her cabin – and Ardeth, having seen no sign of the key, or his man, holds his men in place with a gesture.

Ardeth keeps his eyes on the American, the one who he let live, the one who went after the woman – even as he dumps the woman over the railing of the ship – escaping. Then "O'Connell", as the man is called most often, goes over next.

The Me-jei, as a whole, remain waiting, tense and uneasy, until the man Ardeth sent in after the woman who had just jumped ship without the key lets out a pained scream.

The other Me-jei cannot go to him, cannot aid their comrade- for they have their hands full with gun-happy Americans, the same ones who have yet another _unknown_ survivor of the battle three years back.

Much later, Ardeth was never truly sure what, _exactly_ , started the firefight, but it seemed to him that the breaking point was when the other Americans, alerted by the shooting, took notice of the Me-jei's presence.

Ardeth is quick to take notice as the woman's brother runs out of his sister's cabin, _he has the key_. The man Ardeth sent after the woman, chases after her brother, and Ardeth's blood boils when the Americans shoot his comrade – the brother of the woman jumps overbroad. Others, gaining an amount of intelligence, follow after his example.

Ardeth keeps himself intact as he hides behind a large piece of lumber, his thoughts racing. The fire grows rapidly, and Ardeth knows that if the Americans do not cease-fire they will not be able to escape – even if holding Me-jei back is their goal – surely they would not risk their own lives to save the others?

Then, once everyone _but_ the Americans and the Me-jei are off the boat – the Americans run for the rail, jumping off. Ardeth, and his two remaining men, are quick to follow them off – they go after O'Connell, who is, after all, on the _right_ side of the river to Hamunaptra.

O.o.O.o.O.o.O

Over a rise, just above the encampment below, the three remaining Me-jei, on their bellies, watch from above, as the four strangers go about in the camp below. The foreigners trade for camels, clothes – and one, the Warden of the Cairo prison, makes mischief with the women; the Me-jei know that he is lucky they are guests, and are trading something, which puts them in a fond light in the chief's eyes.

They leave on the camels, and the Me-jei follow, Ardeth can't be sure – but he thinks O'Connell spotted them once or twice. He is surprised O'Connell remembers the way from three years ago, a time he was very close to dieing – yet, he remembered the way…

"This one is strong." He tells his men as he watches them, they remain silent, taking it for what it is –a warning to them, not to engage this man in a battle alone.

Ardeth, and the others watch from a distance as the Americans and O'Connell's group gather at the entrance of Hamunaptra – but, he does not let his men stay to watch the mirage-like city appear, nor for their race, as Me-jei they knew where to find the city.

And so, they knew now, where to find them.

Hamunaptra – that night, Ardeth plans another attack- this time in force; with the others of the Me-jei that are gathered in a camp nearby.

O.o.O.o.O.o.O

Deep in the underground belly of the city, in a room once used to prepare a corpse for the afterlife; where the legs of Anubis meet the earth, the ground that has not been walked upon for three thousand years – Harry, in the fog of half-sleep, _stirs_ , feeling sunlight – and lives – more then enough to feed the dark creature also stirring near him, _they_ are entering the tomb, which is _wrong_ …

Further under Anubis, four of them go- the ground underneath where Harry and the _other_ lays falls bit-by-bit, pulling them down, deeper into the sand – and yet Harry knows they will not fall, others have tried this, it has never worked…from above, come the screams…

 _They_ , Harry feels, have found the jars containing Anck-su-namun's organs, and Harry, waking even more, knows that in Imhotep's fury, their deaths will not be slow. He _knows_ that Imhotep is changed – and knows that Imhotep is the darkness stirring in the back of Harry's mind – linked, some how, to Harry.

Then –a trigger, something strikes it, _they_ fall – and Harry shivers, Imhotep's dark glee coating the back of his throat. The life-forces of three approaches, choosing to try to open the both at the same time, the first to give is the easier of the two – Harry's.

O.o.O.o.O.o.O

"Oh, my God…" A woman's voice, her soul so like Nefertiri's that it hurts; Harry awakened now, slowly opens his eyes, staring at the two men who haven't moved away in their shock.

Harry's heart leaps in his throat – he hears then a gasp, and a gun's safety is clicked off. Harry watches them, and they stare in shock at him – baffled, they have a right to be, he knows, it is impossible what they see in front of them, yet, some how Harry _must_ convince them that it isn't imposable, and that _he_ isn't imposable. He knows he can't expect them to accept the truth just yet.

"What hell is this Evelyn?" The man, with the gun to Harry's head demands, his voice edged with a kind of panic, something Harry feels the man doesn't express very often. The three take quick steps back- and Evelyn's eyes grow wide- the implications of him being sealed in a tomb for three thousand years seeming to catch up.

"O'Connell...I….don't know…" Evelyn whispers – her eyes wide with shock, as if it just occurs to her – she tries to speak Ancient Egyptian to him. It's a dead language – and on her tongue, Harry knows it. Something inside him breaks- he hasn't heard a human voice since he fell into this 'sleep', and he has been alone, alone with the creature that is a shell of Imhotep.

"This is _impossible_ , improbable, oh – _God_ , what are we going to _do_ with him?" The slight man who hadn't spoken yet turns out to be a babbler; Harry, amused by this, turns his eerily green eyes to him. Harry exhales, and slowly, deliberately, rises – his clothes – they had been newly made three thousand years ago; they are now _far_ older now – practically falling off.

"Firstly, we are going to put _that_ ," Harry nods to Rick's gun, "away, and then we can discuss which of you is going to give me spare clothes. There is a perfectly _reasonable and sane_ reason I am in here – of which, I am not going to tell you, because – frankly the fact my pervious colleagues had a very sick sense of humor is none of your business. My name is Harry, and what do you think I was doing in here – _napping_?" Despite himself, the man with a gun - O'Connell's lips twitched in amusement- then, almost obediently, O'Connell put his pistol away, and held out a hand to help Harry up out of the sarcophagus.

Harry took it, grunting with the effort of standing, swaying on his legs – cramps like scorpion stingers running over them. He leaned on the other man, tense, wondering how far he could carry himself – and his lie.

He had them thinking this was a practical joke – a dangerous one, but harmless to them. As long as they didn't open Imhotep's sarcophagus – that was the way Harry intended it to stay.

"Are…are you _alright_?" The slight man asks, seeing his state of exhaustion and inability to stand on his own two feet, the other two, mostly over their shock, also look rather worriedly after him.

"I'll be fine…?" Harry mummers, seeking their names, at the tilt of a question, the two siblings glance at each other – and the woman smiles.

"I'm Evelyn, and this is my brother, Jonathan – and the American is Rick O'Connell. Rick would you, and Jonathan, mind keeping a steady _hold on him_!" She was quite worried when Harry could barely keep on his feet- almost missing a step and falling.

Evelyn turned back to the other sarcophagus, curious – and Harry tensed, watching her. He _knew_ she wanted into it, and he licked his dry lips – not noticing Rick follow the darting pink tongue.

"How long were you in there?" Jonathan asks suddenly, eyeing his clothing, Harry glancs to him, letting a slight smile settle on his lips.

"What's the date then?" Harry asks, keeping it casual – almost too casual, Rick and Jonathan exchanged a glance.

"1926, July 21." _Of course…70 years later, and I'll be born- have records of some kind…couldn't have waited seventy bloody years –I just don't have that kind of luck…_ Despite his thoughts, Harry nodded, masking his emotions.

"Been in there since the 19th then, that's when my group came here." Harry fibbed; they seemed willing to give him the benefit of the doubt.

"The clothes?" Rick reminded him, asking with a raised eyebrow. Harry noticed the thin fabric had only gotten thinner – he swallowed, and shrugged – looking to where Evelyn had been – his eyes widened.

 _She had the key_ – and she was going to try _opening_ Imhotep's sarcophagus.

They hollered, together, excited as the key fit into the lock. Harry opened his mouth to protest – but there wasn't any need for him to do so, a man's scream echoed in the chamber.

The three who had found him ran to the corridor, a man ran by – jumping, screaming, running past them full pelt – and running straight into the wall at the end of the tunnel.

Harry knew without checking that he was dead.

The three others glance among each other – shocked. Harry gets them to the camp by sun set.

O.o.O.o.O.o.O

"What do you suppose killed him?" Evelyn asked her companions, Harry huddles by the fire, wearing a pair of Jonathan's pants – and a shirt given to him by one of the other Americans.

"Did you ever see him eat?" Her brother asked- sounding as if that was all there was to it.

"Seems our American friends had a little misfortune of their own today, seems that three of their diggers were – _melted_." Rick told them, settling down beside the three. Evelyn looked at him doubtfully.

"What?" Jonathan, at least, looked interested, " _how_?" Rick waited until Harry's eyes flicked over to him before continuing.

"Salt acid, pressurized salt acid, some kinda ancient booby trap." Rick explains to them,

"Maybe this place really is cursed." Jonathan mumbles as he rummages through the man's – a warden, Rick had explained earlier to Harry, of a Cairo prison the two siblings had rescued Rick from – and _just_ before his death via hanging. As if to set the mood, a chilling wind swept through the camp – spooky, Harry knew, but otherwise harmless.

"Oh, for goodness sake you two!" Evelyn exclaims, seeing Rick and Jonathan look between each other nervously, there was a distant note of disgust in her tone.

"Don't believe in curses, eh?" Rick asked her, fondly teasing, a small smile crossing his face; but gone before anyone but Harry could take notice.

"No, I don't, I believe if I can see it, and I can touch it, _then_ it's real, _that's_ what I believe." Harry kept his eyes and face away from hers. Harry knew of a lot of things that were real, and very believable, that Evelyn would not – if those were, indeed, her true views.

"I believe in being prepared." Rick retorted, as if to defend his choice of weapons.

"Let's see what our friend the warden believed in – a broken bottle – Glen Livet – twelve years old, well, he may have been a stinky fellow, but he had good taste." Jonathan mused, giving the bottle a fond look.

Beside him, Harry noticed Rick suddenly go tense; Harry tilted his head, only then did he hear what Rick had – horses. Rick stood, and the siblings did as well – Rick turned to them, handing a rifle to Evelyn, who looked down at it, baffled – then back to Rick, who was walking away.

"Take this – stay here." Rick orders her, before striding off – Harry watches him go, then turns to the siblings.

"Wait, wait, wait for me, _wait_." Evelyn demands as she starts to follow Rick – Jonathan, predictably, follows her- lecturing. "Evie, _excuse_ me, didn't the man say _stay here_ , _Evie_." Harry notices then, what the other two had not…

The Ma-jei had arrived.

O.o.O.o.O.o.O


	6. Ma-Jei, Scarab Beetles, and A Mummy – O' My!

The cloying smell of gun smoke filled the desert air. People were yelling, and the occasional horse, or human – screamed… it was all that Harry could hear. Other screams overlap it, screams of the battle he had been in recently- or would ninety years in the future, be in. It seemed to him, then, that a high-pitched laugh filled the air, hanging over him mockingly…

The Americans don't take long to join in the fight, lost in the chaos – something calls to Ardeth, singing like a siren. Lost in this new and demanding feeling, he's careless, and O'Connell takes the opportunity, and knocks him off his horse,

Ardeth is quick to grab O'Connell's gun out of his hand – pointing it at the man. O'Connell rolls away - lighting a stick of dynamite. Ardeth tenses, knowing that now was the time to quit – his men go silent, watching – wary.

"Enough –we will shed no more blood, but you _must_ leave, leave this place or die, you have one day." Ardeth warns him, hoping the others will listen as well, for – beyond O'Connell, he spots green eyes, and for a moment his heart seems to cease beating.

He wants, far more badly then anything in his life, to go back to the green eyed man, to speak with him – but he can't. He and the rest _must_ leave. Ardeth rides away – looking back only once, searching their faces for the green eyes he'd lost sight of.

O.o.O.o.O.o.O

Harry silently watches as the Ma-jei leave; something, a pulling in his heart, leaves with them. Rick is quick to remove the detonator for the dynamite, and still pensive, goes to help Evelyn up, for she had fallen during the battle.

"Evelyn, hey, are you alright?" Rick asks her softly, keeping an eye on the American – Henderson, who approaches them.

"Yes, fine." Evelyn answers, clearly somewhat cross with him.

"Are you sure?" Rick asks again, his attention focused now on her.

"Yes, thank you." Evelyn answers again, a bit softly.

"That proves it, old Seti's fortune must be under the sand, for them to protect it like that, you just know there's treasure here." Henderson speaks, keeping himself at a distance, his eyes on Rick.

"No, these men are a desert people, they value water not gold." Rick contradicted, nonetheless, Rick sounded puzzled to their attackers' exact motives. Had they truly been warning them away from a cursed city? Or did they fear something else…?

"You know, maybe, just at night, we could… combine forces." Henderson suggests to them, a bit nervous, and getting to the point. Evelyn and Rick trade looks, agreeing, for the first time.

O.o.O.o.O.o.O

Harry found himself sleeping in late. Worse that the others apparently got to work _before_ sunrise; he dreamed of his new-found friends waking Imhotep, by opening his sarcophagus. The 'dream' was made all the more _real_ as he felt the creatures' fierce joy – and jerked fully awake. Franticly, he looked for the key – he had taken it last night, but, it isn't with him.

Leaving only one conclusion – Evelyn, or her brother, had taken the key with them to the dig today. Harry, upset, curls in on himself, rubbing the bridge of his nose as he thinks – the Americans would have made a fuss if they had stumbled upon the Book of the Dead, so Harry knew that they had not found it. Almost as a after thought, he made sure that the Book of the Dead's distinctive magical signature hadn't moved during the night – it hadn't, yet, he hoped he still had time.

His plan had been to remove the two things that could wake Imhotep, and so far, he had failed.

Then he sees a man O'Connell had told him about, the American's guild –Beni rushing by him - mumbling something, something that sounded an awful lot like 'curses'. Feeling somewhat like he was going to hear the worst news of his life, he calls out to him. The man spins around, nearly tripping on his own two feet.

"What's the matter? Have they found something?" Harry asks, hoping against hope that the men didn't…

"Oh, if only they had not!" Beni groans, and Harry feels his stomach lurch unpleasantly – the Black Book had moved. Not even magical books did _that_ on there own…

"Take my advice young sir – take your self, and my friend O'Connell, and his woman, out of this place. Those cursed desert riders were right! There is a curse on this place, and all who stay will die!" Beni told him, still walking away – backwards, then, his message delivered, he ran to the camels- they, unfortunately, were unwilling to take him into the desert. So, Beni, not brave enough to go into the desert with the sun still up, sits huddled by Harry.

"So…how did you meet O'Connell?" Harry asks his reluctant companion, by the time nightfall rolls around he has heard more of Beni's life then he had ever hoped to find out.

As Harry had thought, the Americans had the Book of the Dead, and were not afraid of flaunting it. Quite overwhelmingly, after being locked away alone for so long, Harry found himself surrounded; not matter his attempts to ignore them, or to annoy them, they stay by him – and the fire, as if drawn to him.

Out of the corner of his eyes, he sees one of the cursed objects being held up by an American, Henderson, who shows off his sacred jar, each of the five Americans have one. Harry's mouth goes dry – he wants to tell them they are doomed – wants to bury the jars –hide them forever in the sand... yet, he knows he can't.

Imhotep would be drawn to them, so it would do them little good in the end…

"Say, O'Connell, what do you think these babies'll fetch back home?" Henderson asks, while Burns, another American, grins at his companion. Harry watches them, somewhat horrified at the objects they hold so little regard to yet, amused, as they tease O'Connell.

"We hear you boys found yourself a nice gooey mummy." Daniels, yet other American, chuckles – Harry keeps his expression carefully blank, even as his insides chill alarmingly.

 _They've found Him_ …. "Congratulations, you know if you dried that fellow out you could sell him for firewood." Harry shudders; _they don't know- they can't_ …. Harry reassures himself, and glances up as Evelyn approaches them – O'Connell turns to Beni.

"You're in her seat – now." Rick snarls and Beni jumps away with a quickly yipped, "Yeah."

"Look what I found!" Evelyn exclaimed from beside them, clearly excited by whatever she held – it was too small to worry Harry too much, so he let himself relax. Evelyn settles beside them, opening her hand to show off her find.

"Scarab skeletons, flesh eaters; I found them inside our friend's coffin. They can stay alive for years, feeding on the flesh of a corpse. Unfortunately for our friend, he was still alive when they started eating him." Evelyn explains, even as Harry sits, shuddering near by, _those things_ , he knew them.

Or rather, Imhotep had, the link between them allowed for dreams of each others life to pass, and after three thousand years, he knows…those were the things that had driven Imhotep to insanity – even in death, they tormented him.

"So, someone threw these in with our guy and they slowly ate him alive." Rick doesn't sound too keen to keep looking for mummies; Harry wishes him luck trying to avoid him. He wonders, somewhat amusedly, how Rick would react to finding out he sat by someone who had been 'dead' for three thousand years or so. He only hoped they did not, in fact, ask him any current events.

"Very _slowly_." Evelyn assured them, Harry glances at Rick to see his reaction – he's somewhat bemused to find the man putting down the food he was about to bite into. Not that he blamed Rick for that…

"Well, he certainly wasn't a popular fellow was he?" Jonathon murmured, his eyes Harry was somewhat startled to realize, rested somewhat worriedly upon Harry. He wondered what Jonathan and the others saw when they looked at him. Harry hadn't gotten the chance to look, but he was fairly sure he was still eighteen-looking, probably just as thin…

"No," Rick said, deciding, suddenly, to cheer things up a bit, "probably got a little too _frisky_ with the pharaohs daughter." Rick said with a grin, waggling his eyebrows and nudging Harry; Harry bit his lip, he was far to close to the truth for the true reason of Imhotep's curse.

"According to my readings, our friend suffered the Hom-dai, the worst of all ancient Egyptian curses, one reserved only for the most evil of blasphemers. In all my research I've never heard of this curse actually being performed." Evelyn lectured, trying to bring a serious light on the event, thinking they weren't taking this seriously enough.

"That bad, eh?" O'Connell muttered somewhat reserved, having noticed how Harry had tensed up, and feeling somewhat bad about Evelyn apparently scaring the youth.

"Yes, well, they never used it; because they feared it so, it's written that if a victim of the hom-dai should ever arise, he would bring with him the ten plagues of Egypt." Evelyn told them, assured of the knowledge, Harry glanced to where Imhotep was – his sarcophagus likely still opened. Harry only _wished_ she really knew how serious it was…Evelyn's modern books were unlikely to speak of magic, or the dead rising to rule the world.

"Harry, why don't you get some rest? You look tired, and you slept all day – weren't you able to sleep after the attack?" Evelyn asked, noticing how their teenage companions lids drifting shut every once in a while.

"I just feel I've done nothing for too long…" Harry shrugged his expression steely. Rick clasped a hand on the younger mans shoulder.

"Hey, you've got us watching your back now – no need for you to be doing it all on your own." Rick assured him, Evelyn looked confused for a moment, but her expression cleared and she nodded in agreement.

"If you say so…" Harry murmured- the rest, his friends, assured him that it was safe for him to sleep. So he did. He never regretted anything else quite so much afterwards.

O.o.O.o.O.o.O

"Amun-ra, Amun-dai, it speaks of the night and of the day." Evelyn said aloud –reading a paragraph aloud in Ancient Egyptian. As garbled as it is – Harry understands it for what it is; a spell to wake Imhotep. He finds himself jerking awake – but too late.

" _Noooo! You must not read from the book_!" A man yells – Harry wakes to his worst nightmare, locusts – hundreds upon thousands of them, rush between two pillars in the distance, coming for them.

" **Run**!" Rick yells, yanking Evelyn up; Jonathon and Harry are quick to follow them as they fun for the tunnel leading underground. The Americans just behind them; Harry using magical ties, knows Imhotep is nearby; and Harry just hopes Imhotep finds Harry - _before_ the others find Imhotep.

They stop abruptly, and he watches with the rest, curious and yet _dreading_ what it is as a mound rises from the floor – blocking the path. Harry has plenty else to worry about, besides Imhotep; scarabs pop out of the mound, and are quick to go after them.

They, Rick, Jonathan, Evelyn, and Harry, find themselves split up from the rest – still running, a death by being eaten alive close on their heels.

Rick and some other Americans join him in shooting behind them, in an effort to slow the scarabs down. The path widens- and stones beyond the path stand alone, Jonathan and Rick are quick to get atop those stones, Harry standing behind Rick – Evelyn avoids the stones in favor of the wall.

"Scarabs." Evelyn whispers in horror as a horde of thousands approach her.

"Run! Evie, go, go, _go_." Jonathan urges his frozen sister.

" _Run_!" Rick demands, Evelyn moves – and the wall reveals itself to be a trap door.

"Evelyn!" O'Connell yells as she disappears; "Evie!" Jonathan wide-eyed calls after his sister; Harry feels something cold go down his spine. He _knows_ Imhotep is just beyond that wall – _exactly_ where Evelyn disappeared at.

"A trap door got to be here, a switch around here… _someplace_." Rick assures them as he and the others search for it. Jonathon and Rick try desperately for the door- before they can get whatever worked for Evie to work for them, the Americans run by – yelling.

"Run, you sons of bitches, run!" Henderson yells, and not taking anymore chances, Rick urges the other two to run. " _Go, go, go_!" A digger falls behind, trips, and is consumed – his screams echoing behind them.

Rick in the lead, Harry just behind him, with a touch on Rick's shoulder, Harry spots Evelyn backed up against a wall; relieved, Rick wastes no time in approaching her, not able to see Imhotep, not able to _sense_ him like Harry can – even weak as Harry was, he couldn't do anything to stop Imhotep if he chose to try to kill Rick, Harry follows him, hoping against hope that if Imhotep is near he will go after Harry rather then the other two.

"Evie." Jonathan says, having spotted his sister – and looking vastly relieved for it.

"There you are, have you been playing hide and seek? Let's get out of here," Rick sees her horrified expression, and Harry spins around – Rick following his example, Rick hears something, and puzzled, he turns around and spots the walking dead, " _whoa_." Harry hears Rick yell, before shooting a round into Imhotep's face – Harry and Evelyn's hands are caught by Rick's who yanking them, run to where the others had stalled.

Seeing Imhotep like that, dead – but walking, cursed for all eternity, brings Harry shuddering to his knees as they reach the surface. Harry, lost in his thoughts, takes little notice of when Ardeth and his Ma-jei appear suddenly, in front of the others, one of the Americans with them.

"I told you to leave or die; you refused; now you may have killed us all; for you have unleashed the creature that we have feared for more than 300 years." Rick and the others glance between each other, puzzled.

"Relax, I got him." Rick assures him- flippant.

"No mortal weapon can kill this creature; he is not of this world." Ardeth explains, even as a Ma-jei Ardeth had sent after Burns returns – the Americans grow furious. Henderson _growled_ as they laid Burns, groaning in pain without tongue or eyes, beside his fellows. Henderson took his friends hands – reassuring him. "You bastard, what have you done to him?"

"We saved him, saved him before the creature could finish his work. Now leave, all of you, quickly before he finishes you all. Alla, Imshin, we must now go on the hunt to try and find a way to kill him." Ardeth says, calling for his men, they are quick to bring the horses.

"I already told you, I got him." Rick says, urging them to believe him. Harry thinks he hopes he's gotten the creature – but Harry knows otherwise, knows Imhotep is alive – and furious.

"Know this, this creature is the bringer of death, he will never eat, he will never sleep, he will never stop." Ardeth, still keeping his anger bottled, gazes on the survivors. His eyes catch the green eyed man's – his resolve hardens – he _will_ find a weapon, if only to ensure the green eyed man lives.

"Are you well?" Ardeth asks the green eyed man, Harry – guilt and unease eating at him, just nods. Ardeth yells – and as if that is a signal for the rest, they start to leave – by horse, or by camel.

As they flee, Harry is _sure_ he feels Imhotep behind him, but it is only sand. At a breakneck pace, they arrive at a Fort Brydon in Cairo, above, lightening flashes across the darkening sky.


	7. The Morning After – Or Something Like It

If Harry closed his eyes, he could still picture how Imhotep had looked before his death – before the curse. He had burned with confidence, sure he could tackle any challenge- he had not been unpleasant to look upon; yet, if Harry were to compare the two – he couldn't begin to. What was left wasn't human – it was savage survivor of the worst curse humanity could throw at him.

Harry didn't know if the Imhotep he had known had deserved such a fate – Nefertiri had certainly thought he had, and, Harry supposed – she was the one who had lost her father by Imhotep's actions.

As Harry hadn't aged in three thousand years, he could only assume _something_ had happened that Nefertiri hadn't planed on with him – something she hadn't been able to reverse once done.

Harry knew certain things about magic, the natural flow of it – how long it took people to regain the magic they had lost – all that he knew because of having helped Hermione in her research with the wand cores.

Muggles, Harry knew, weren't entirely without magic- their magic was simply a different type entirely, something that was felt – not seen. Hermione had explained that theirs was 'Neutral' magic; to get it to act on their behalf took great will – or a disaster, something otherwise traumatic.

Otherwise, the magic within them acted as if they were batteries, filling them up- yet going unnoticed most of their lives, it was why the Dark Arts practiced the draining of Muggle blood – or a sacrifice of a Muggle.

Magic reacted entirely different with Wizards and Witches – because they could use it – manipulate it, since conception they had a magical core – akin to a magical heart – or brain, and coils in their body where magic flowed like blood or a nervous system. They didn't truly need wands or words – but they were ingrained since childhood, something that worked deeper then a habit, and it took an amount of will for a Wizard or a Witch to overcome those instincts.

This type of magic, Hermione had called 'Active', it gathered power inside the core – how much magic was in the core held depended on the individual, and the circumstances. Squibs were entirely different from either – magic 'avoided' them, yet they held as much as much magical core and coils as Wizards and Witches – they just couldn't use that magic.

So, if Harry were to guess why it was he hadn't aged, or why his magic was barely there, he'd have to think that something was draining his magic to keep him from aging. It was a question of what it was – and if Harry could remove it somehow. As Harry had found nothing on him of magical origins, it would have to be _within_ him. Something that had been within him for three thousand years might as well be a part of him now.

As his magic was slowly, but surely, seeping back into his core – he assumed this was because they had awoken- and were active. Harry couldn't very well stop Imhotep without his magic. Which brought up another can-of-worms, what, exactly had they meant by a weapon 'not of this earth' to be used to defeat Imhotep?

Harry sighed, and rolled to his side, he closed his eyes – listening to the others who had fled Hamunaptra. There was a knock on the door, then it opened – it was Jonathon – the older male glanced around his room, then to him raising an eyebrow.

"You look like you're having fun being gloomy." Jonathon told him, Harry snorted, and Jonathon quirked a grin.

"What do you say we go get good and drunk and forget that mess at Hamunaptra, eh?" Jonathon prodded, entering Harry's room. Harry considered it – he knew Hermione and Ron would have been disappointed –but then, they wouldn't be born for another eighty or so years…

"Sure, why not." Jonathon grinned and waited for Harry as he rose and left the room, Jonathon's arm wrapped around Harry's shoulders, and leaned close to Harry's ear. "Lovely, I hate drinking alone." Jonathon's breath made his ear tingle, and he smelt slightly of alcohol, Harry decided to ignore the hint of flirtation.

O.o.O.o.O.o.O

O'Connell came down, he looked a bit perturbed, and Harry blinked as a man followed Rick to the bar. He didn't bother to follow their conversation, it looked a bit dull, though he did giggle a lot when the man –Winston, he thought the man's name was, swiped Jonathon's drink – Jonathon pouted at Harry for giggling so.

The man left – Harry thought he looked a bit drunk, and Rick turned to Jonathon – a slight question in his eyes.

"Tell me has your sister always been…" Rick attempted, somehow unable to finish, so Jonathon finished for him. "Always." He assured, Harry blinked as some somber Americans came to the bar.

 _Well, you'd be somber if you got to the bar, and worse when you left it_. Harry assured himself, thinking it made since put that way.

"Well, we're all packed up, but the damn boat doesn't leave till tomorrow morning." One of the Americans announced, ordering a drink, Harry thought Henderson was a very odd name. Who in their right mind would name their child "Hender"? Then follow it up by a "Son"?

"Tail set firmly between your legs I see." Jonathon teased, as the Americans had been perfectly willing to risk their lives when the enemy was human and killable, but give them something supernatural, and they didn't like the idea of staying much.

"You can talk; you don't have some sacred walking corpse after you." The man Henderson said bitterly, Harry sobered, somewhat; his head still felt a bit fluffy.

"How's your friend?" Rick interrupted; he seemed to genuinely care about the answer. The other with him, Daniels, sneered at his drink, and answered Rick hollowly, his tone deadened. "He had his eyes and tongue ripped out, how would you be?"

"My entire fault you know…" Harry told them firmly, there was something he wasn't supposed to say, but it was his fault – and they needed to know that at least…that at least he was sorry.

Henderson and Daniels looked up, somewhat amused. Rick and Jonathon glanced at each other, deciding that if things got violent they'd have to get Harry out of here – preferably in one piece.

"How can it be? You're only a kid." Henderson told him quite firmly. Harry couldn't help but laugh.

"Yeah, that's right, a kid – a _kid_ who they sealed up inside for ages and ages, just to cover up their mistakes – if they didn't want the curse coming back, shouldn't of cursed him – warned Nefertiri of that, suppose they found away around that. A kid supposed to kill it – stop it, whichever, damn them, I haven't a clue how." Harry aware he probably didn't make since turned to Jonathon. He was unaware of the shocked and alarmed looks he was receiving from the rest. "Seventy years, why couldn't you lot have waited seventy more years." Harry thought he was whining.

"What happens in seventy years, Harry?" Rick asked, keeping his voice carefully clam, Harry blinked at him. "Won't be born till then – don't know where the others are, suppose Dumbledore is alive…suppose Tom is too…don't wanna screw up the timeline anymore then it already is – don't think Imhotep – that cured mummy, was supposed to get free for a while yet, didn't you lot know that?" Harry hissed, cold steel pressed against his neck. Harry blinked at Daniels, alarmed.

" _What. Are. You_?" He demanded, hissing the words out one by one, Harry flinched, the knife dug deeper, and Harry relaxed. "Not dead – Death told me I was supposed to fix what happened three thousand years ago, I didn't know what it was then – then Imhotep killed, and I suppose that was supposed to happen – Death didn't seem to mind. Didn't know they ere gonna curse him – I suppose that was what I was meant to change. Or the past – this present, make sure there is a future for me to grow up again." The knife was removed from Harry's neck; Rick glared at the baffled Americans.

"He obviously doesn't know what he's talking about; do you _honestly_ think he's been alive for that long?" Rick asked, the two glanced at each other – Henderson shrugged. "We've _obviously_ seen stranger." Daniels told him, Rick snorted, and turned to Jonathon.

"You just had to get him drunk, didn't you?" Rick hissed at Jonathon, who rolled his eyes – the others went back to drinking, watching Harry from the corner of their eyes every once in a while. _These Americans_ , Harry decided _, were a very strange bunch_.

They decided on a toast - to drinking, glasses clinking together. "Good luck boys." O'Connell told the other Americans. Harry and the rest took a quick sip – and were just as quick to spit it out.

"Yuk, sweet Jesus, tasted just like…" Henderson started.

" _Blood_." O'Connell finished, staring at the fountain – which spilled blood.

"And the rivers of Egypt ran red and were as blood." Jonathon recited gloomily; Harry was fully somber now because he knew…" _He's_ here." O'Connell growled – they ran for the others, their things- and Evelyn.

Harry ran to where Burns was supposed to be.

O.o.O.o.O.o.O

He was too late. The man sat, dieing in the chair, Harry saw he struggled fruitlessly - Imhotep stood over him, regenerating; Harry stumbled into the room, saddened – hollow, deadened inside his soul by the death. Harry stood near the fireplace; Imhotep had yet to notice him – his attention taken up with draining Burns of his life, his youth, and all the things Imhotep had lost.

" _Why_?" He pleaded with Imhotep as he turned, and narrowed his eyes on Harry.

" _You dare ask me that? You betrayed me – and now I shall rule this world, and you will live forever… regretting it_." Imhotep told him, striding closer, looming over Harry. Harry swallowed, shaking his head.

" _This is a different world – you would be a fool to take it without more knowledge. And…I did nothing – you killed him, I did not_." Harry argued, studiously ignoring a scarab as it crawled along Imhotep's skin.

" _I will revive Anck-su-namun, and with her gift – I shall rule_!" Imhotep roared, and stepped closer; reaching out to take hold of Harry's neck – to strangle or caress him, Harry didn't know – then O'Connell came barging into the room. He saw Imhotep reaching for Harry's neck – and still rejuvenating. Harry saw him fire his gun at Imhotep- it had no effect but to anger him.

"We are in serious trouble." O'Connell spoke, seemingly to Harry, even as Evelyn entered the room. Imhotep, enraged by the attempt on his life, went after Rick – picking him up, effortlessly, and then throwing him across the room- and into the others, who stand on the threshold of the door. Harry raised his hand, summoning forth a shield to protect the others; then, predictably to mock Harry, Imhotep turned his attention to Evelyn.

" _You saved me from the undead, I thank you_." Harry froze – could Imhotep not sense it was Nefertiri's soul Evelyn possessed? Or was he speaking of her opening the book of the dead and reading from it? Or was he merely mocking Harry?

Frozen, Harry watched at Imhotep attempted to kiss Evelyn, O'Connell struggled to stand – and then, much to everyone's surpise… Harry smirked.

Behind Imhotep, piano keys were stuck – and a white cat appeared, Imhotep turned as the cat hissed, and Imhotep roared- fleeing, turning himself into sand and disappearing through the window.

"We are in _very_ serious trouble" O'Connell said, he seemed one who liked to say the obvious.


	8. Those Annoying Things Known As Plagues

Harry was quite sure he was never going drinking with Jonathan again – _why_? Well, he was sure that when he didn't drink, "falling-flaming-rocks-of-doom" did not, in fact, _fall_ from the sky. That aside, they made it to the museum without a death, although there were a few near-misses.

"What's this guy want anyhow?" Henderson had asked, Harry blinked at the American, his head pounded, he decided to ignore the question, because – frankly, he had no idea which 'guy' he meant.

"There's only one person I know who could possibly give us any answers…" Evelyn began as they walked into a room.

" _You_." Evelyn exclaimed– and Harry could see why, as could the others. Ardeth, and the curator – a Dr. Bey, turned to the men – all of which, save Harry, had guns out.

"Dr. Bey" Evelyn began, watching Ardeth – who was more interested in the guns.

"Miss Conahan, _gentlemen_." Dr. Bey murmured, as he was subtly trying to draw their attention away from Ardeth. It wasn't working too well…

"What's _he_ doing here?" Evelyn questioned, her eyes flicking between Dr. Bey and Ardeth.

"Do you really want to know? Or would you prefer to just shoot us?" Dr. Bey quibbled, seeing that Ardeth had tensed like a bow string, ready to fling himself into action at any moment, and Dr. Bey knew that if they spilled Ardeth's blood, it would be more trouble then it was worth to them.

"After what I just saw, I'm willing to go on a little faith here." O'Connell answers, then, when the others hesitate, the guns are lowered; Ardeth lets his hand that had been touching the hilt of his sword, fall. The room reminded Harry very much of Egypt, and that hurt – if only a little bit. Dr. Bey cleared his throat, and the others were quick to pay him the proper amount of attention.

"We are part of an ancient secret society, for over 3000 years we have guarded the city of the dead, swore to manhood to do anything in our power to stop the High Priest Imhotep from being reborn into this world." Dr. Bey started, Ardeth, his eyes on the Americans continued.

"And now, because of you, we have failed." Evelyn looked between the two men, fury in her eyes.

"And you think this justifies the killing of innocent people?" Ardeth and Dr. Bey glanced between each other.

"To stop this creature, let me think." Dr. Bey muttered clearly meaning to be a bit sarcastic and biting.

"Dr Bey –" Evelyn sounded cross, but they paid her no mind when they answered.

" _Yes_." The two answered, but to the others surprise, so had Harry; Harry glanced up at them and shrugged. He had been entombed to guard Imhotep, and he knew he was doing a poor job of it. Not that he thought any of these others had believed him.

"Question… why doesn't he like cats?" O'Connell asked Dr. Bey; Harry's lip quirked, he thought it rather ironic that a soon to be 'all powerful' mummy feared kitties.

"Cats are the guardians of the underworld; he will fear them until he is fully regenerated." Dr. Bey explained, glancing at Harry suspiciously.

"And then he will fear nothing." Ardeth told them, they did not look reassured.

"Yeah, and you know how he gets himself fully regenerated?" Daniel growled, sure that the two were not taking this seriously enough.

"By killing everyone who opened that chest." Henderson echoed, looking at his hands, and swallowing.

"And sucking them dry, that's how." Daniel's continued, franticly, for it was clear to them that they did not have the Ma-jei's sympathy. Harry glanced up at Jonathan; Ardeth looked murderous, as Evelyn's brother played with a bow on one of the statues.

"Jonathan will you stop playing with that, when I saw him alive at Hamunaptra, he called me Anck-su-namun and then, just now, in Mr. Burns' quarters, he tried to kiss me." It was quite clear what that meant to Harry, and with the way Ardeth and Dr. Bey glanced at each other, it meant the same to them.

"It was because of his love for Anck-su-namun that he was cursed – apparently even after 3000 years…" Dr. Bey begin, Harry could just see him _resisting_ the urge to start pacing. "He is still in love with her." Ardeth finished when it was clear Dr. Bey was not going to finish his words.

"Yes, that's all very romantic, but what's it got to do with me?" Evelyn asked them, puzzled. "Perhaps he will once again try to raise her from the dead." Ardeth told her bluntly, Dr. Bey seemed to shake himself out of his musings.

"Yes, and it appears that he has already chosen his human sacrifice." Dr. Bey told them, a significant look at Evelyn. Jonathon patted her shoulder. "Bad luck ole mum." Evelyn looked at them – alarmed, but Dr. Bey had turned to the skylight.

"On the contrary, it may just give us the time we need to kill the creature." Dr. Bey had stood, and with Ardeth behind them, they looked up.

"We will need all the help we can get, his powers are growing." Ardeth spoke, chillingly, even as the sun was eclipsed.

"And he reached forth his hand towards the heavens, and there was darkness throughout the land of Egypt." Jonathon, apparently having had taken it upon himself to inform them of the plagues they were witnessing, spoke, Harry swallowed, a headache building behind his eyes.

O.o.O.o.O.o.O

Ardeth did not know whither to be pleased or annoyed that the green eyed man had stayed behind. On one hand, it would make explaining his dream to Dr. Bey all the easier, on the other hand it would likely give his old friend too many ideas.

"You said that they had gotten the Book of the Dead? This is the most disturbing news, yet, it may lead to a weapon which the ancients hinted at." Dr. Bey told him, his mind on the recent events – not that Ardeth's weren't, he was just… _sure_ …that his dreams had some part to play in the future.

"There is another matter which I came to tell you about, that of my...dreams, I dreamed I was back in ancient times – I watched Imhotep kill Seti, and our ancient ancestors kill Anck-su-namun, the green eyed man," Ardeth nodded toward Harry, "was there – with Seti's daughter."

Dr. Bey frowned, the Ma-jei viewed dreams in a different manner – dreams, they had found were warnings- and it was very possible Ardeth had seen their deaths in the eyes of his past life.

"If you saw all this, do you know who you saw it as?" Ardeth swallowed, and told him what he thought to be true. That he had witnessed their deaths, and taken their souls, as a God might, as _Death_ might.

"So, as Death, you loved this mortal man – this Harii; and, you think this man Death loved, and this teenager is one in the same?" Dr. Bey finished the thought, gesturing to Harry, Ardeth nodded, tense – he hadn't expected Dr. Bey to take him so seriously.

"There is a legend, a mere myth, which says the love of Death was mortal, and entombed to guard the creature, to ensure he always had Death at hand." Dr. Bey told him in a near whisper, Ardeth swallowed, anger bubbling up inside him – anger that someone had plotted to do such a thing to _his_ green eyes.

"Why don't you go see to him, Ardeth?" Dr. Bey saw for a moment that Ardeth's eyes were like the night sky; he swallowed- there were tales that the night sky was how a gods eyes looked, he gestured to the young man seated against a statue. Ardeth nodded slowly, and went to Harry.

O.o.O.o.O.o.O

Harry had volunteered to stay behind while the others went back to the hotel. Someone needed to 'watch' Ardeth and Dr. Bey, although that was not his true reason for staying, but the others had taken it to heart, and gone back to get the other man, still on the streets – and, as O'Connell had said, to gather information.

Harry leaned against a heavy gold statue – the other two spoke in quite whispers, and Harry let them; then, quite suddenly, Ardeth was approaching him – and the good Dr. Bey was no where in sight.

"You look…troubled." Ardeth told him, something within him longed to reach out, to touch the other man. Harry's green eyes peered cautiously up into Ardeth's own dark eyes and upon seeing something there – Harry decided to trust him.

"What if you were faced with a question; to live, or to kill something that may very well kill you - and take a part of yourself, your soul, with it?" Harry thought he knew what Ardeth's answer would be, but Ardeth surprised him.

"I don't believe something like the creature can steal a part of your soul, Harry." Harry sighed, and smiled at the grim man before him. To his surprise he got a smile in return- and for a moment, he swore he saw Death's face overshadow Ardeth's.

"Harry, are you alright? You look as if you've seen a ghost…" Ardeth trailed off, for the others had returned, it was quite clear with the banding open of the museum doors and the rushing of feet that they were in a hurry.

Ardeth helped Harry up, and led him to where the others had entered the museum, they were, for some reason rushing climbing the stairs – then Harry noticed the absence of two of the three Americans; O'Connell whispered what had happened to them to Harry, Ardeth, and Dr. Bey as they climbed.

"Yes well, according to legend, the Black Book that the Americans found at Hamunaptra, is supposed to bring people back from the dead, until now it was a myth and I was unwilling to believe it." Evelyn explained as they took the stairs up.

"Believe it sister, that's what brought our buddy back to life." O'Connell told her, Evelyn nodded, her thoughts clearly elsewhere.

"Yes, now I was thinking; if the Black Book can bring dead people to life, then…" Evelyn trailed off, looking hopefully at O'Connell, because it was just too strange to say – let alone hope and believe in.

"Then, maybe the Gold one can kill them." O'Connell obliged her; Evelyn nodded, glancing at the top of the stair case. "That's the myth, now we just have to find out _where_ the Gold Book is hidden." At the top of the stairs they went to the window, having heard the chanting of many people.

The whole of the city seemed to approach the museum, all carrying torches, covered in boils – marching to them.

"Last, but not least, my favorite plague- boils and sores." Jonathon murmured, looking sickened.

"They have become his slaves, so it has begun - the beginning of the end." Ardeth murmured, looking out over the sea of dead slaves, knowing they could not escape the museum unscathed.

"Not quite yet it hasn't, come on." Evlyn told him strictly, unwilling to let the others give up so soon. They were chanting a name, Harry realized - _Imhotep_ – and in the middle of the two halves, Beni and Imhotep walked.

Ardeth and O'Connell were quick to secure the doors to the museum, Jonathon, Evelyn, Harry, and Daniels looked over the tablet on the wall.

"According to Bambridge Scholars, the Golden Book of Amun-ra is located inside the statue of Anubis." Evelyn told them; "That's where we found the Black Book." Daniels echoed her thoughts. " _Exactly_ …" Evelyn murmured reading over the script.

"Looks like the old boys at Bambridge were mistaken." Jonathon sounded far too pleased with that, yet Evelyn didn't seem to take notice. "Yes, they mixed the books up, mixed up where they were hidden, so if the Black Book is inside the statue of Anubis, then the Gold Book must be inside…" Then a crash shook the museum, the crowd outside had broken through the doors- Jonathon turned back from the sight, urging his sister on.

"Come on Evie, _faster_." Jonathon glanced to Harry, he saw the younger mans eyes on the crowd – and for a moment the air around the balcony seemed to shimmer. Harry had found himself using up his power to shield them.

"Patience is a virtue." Evelyn told them, her voice so nervous it sounded sing-song.

"Not right now it isn't." O'Connell told her, turning back to the approaching crowd, they did not seem to know where they were. "I think I'll go and get the car started." Jonathon told them, rushing off to do so- Harry shook, Ardeth noticed the more people entering the harder the black haired youth seemed to shake.

"I've got it! The Golden Book of Amun-ra is at Hamunaptra, inside the statue of Horus. Take _that_ Bambridge Scholars."

Daniels yells, "Let's get out of here." With the answer firmly in their minds, they dashed after Jonathon. Ardeth kept Harry running beside him; somehow, Ardeth thought he seemed distracted.

"Evie, come on Evie." Jonathon urged from the car. Ardeth got Harry in, and the others scrambled in after – Beni had appeared and yelled- telling the creature and his servants where they were.

"You're gonna get yours Beni, you hear me? You're gonna get yours!" Rick yelled at Beni as he got in.

"Oh, like I've never heard _that_ before." Beni yelled after the car. Jonathon sped off, and collectively they shuddered as they heard the creature roar from behind them. Ardeth turned to Harry – he had a bloody nose, and seemed dizzy – Ardeth wanted to ask what was wrong, but Harry did not meet his eyes.

The crowd of dead servants chased them, even as Jonathon drove the car through an alley, through clothes lines – and into the crowd itself. As they clung to the vehicle Daniels and Rick tried to shoot them off, but in the confusion Harry saw Daniels fall – they couldn't stop for him- even as he yelled for O'Connell.

Jonathon really couldn't help what happened next – the car crashed into a fountain – franticly, they backed away from the oncoming horde of dead - O'Connell grabbing a torch, and trying to ward off the crowd with fire, the one thing they seemed to fear both in life and in death.

Before Harry knew it they were backed up against a wall.

Ardeth shudders – sickened and something inside him coils in fury, to see the dead used so. There is tenseness – an unspoken summons, and Imhotep passes between them – as they part for him like the Red Sea.


	9. That Which Scares Us…

"It's the creature, he's fully regenerated." Dr. Bey pointed out rather unnecessarily, as they could all see for themselves that Imhotep was quite human looking, and not so… _juicy_.

" _Come with me my princess, it is time to make you mine, for all eternity_." Harry was the only one to understand Imhotep, but found it rather amusing when Beni repeated the message, getting the last part wrong – of course.

"For all eternity, idiot." Evelyn corrected, sneering at Beni for his mixed message, Beni merely shrugged.

" _Take my hand, and I will spare your friends_." Imhotep said, his eyes sliding over to Harry's, Harry swallowed at the dark amusement in them, Harry glanced to Evelyn, he knew what she'd do – and he knew what he had to do.

Beni faithfully repeated the message. It was like listening to a _parrot_ , or puppet- which was what Beni was, really.

"Oh dear – have you got any bright ideas?" Evelyn asked, Rick, looking pale, Harry glanced at him hopefully.

"I'm thinking, I'm thinking." Rick rushed, Evelyn swallowed. "Think of something fast, because if he turns me into a mummy, you're the first one I'm coming after." Evelyn said softly. Imhotep smirked, knowing he would soon have what he wanted.

"No, no." Rick hissed, desperate to bring _some_ sense to her.

"Don't." Evelyn shook, and Harry marveled at her strength of character. To find someone she thought she might love, and then to do something like this.

"No." Ardeth said, also disagreeing with her actions, but seeing the sense and logic in them, as he pulled Rick back from stopping her, and Rick puts his gun away – slowly.

"He must take me to Hamunaptra to perform the ritual." Evelyn said as if to further explain her actions, Ardeth nodded – slowly, agreeing.

"She is right, live today, and fight tomorrow." Ardeth hissed in Rick's ear as she moved slowly away from the group. Rick held up a torch, moving it in front of Imhotep. "I'll be seeing you again."

Evelyn tried to walk to Imhotep, past Harry, but Harry put his arm out – stopping her. She looked at him, puzzled, and he realized, suddenly, why he couldn't let her do it. Harry turned to Imhotep, met his eyes, and said the first thing that came to mind.

" _I'm sorry_." Harry was surprised to find it was true too. Behind him, he heard Evelyn inhale sharply, and could feel the others gaping at him. Imhotep leered at him, looking him up and down; Harry tilted his chin up defiantly.

" _Three thousand years go by, and all you can say is you're sorry? Well, at least you have the gull to admit to them you are more then you seem… I wonder though, do they know your true nature_?" Imhotep glanced at Evelyn's face, and laughed darkly, knowing the answer.

" _I won't let you hurt anymore people_." Harry continued- he spared a glance at Rick, then glancing down – to the sewers. Rick nodded, ever so slightly; it went unnoticed by the rest as Harry turned his attention back to Imhotep.

" _You won't let me? What is going to stop me_?" Imhotep hissed at him – and Harry's mind raced.

" _Take me in her place. You don't need the body, Imhotep, merely a death. Wouldn't it be better for the spell if someone who has lived for as long as I have, died for it?_ " Imhotep nodded slowly, wary. Evelyn looked upon Harry with open shook –if it was because she had been speaking, and around someone, who was as old as one of her beloved artifacts, or because he willing to put himself in her place – Harry didn't know.

He guessed he'd never find out now either.

" _And what would you want in return, Harii?_ "

 _For this to wor_ k…Harry thought, glancing down as he took a quick look for Ardeth's reaction. He had stiffened; his eyes bleeding to blackness, and specks of stars glittered in the depths. Harry could have cheered; instead he answered Imhotep, with what he could muster of remorse.

" _Your forgiveness, Imhotep, is all I ask of you_." Imhotep nodded slowly, and motioned Harry foreword. It was the longest five steps Harry had ever taken – before Harry could stop him, Beni took the key from a still and pale Jonathan.

"Hey, that's mine!" Jonathan yelped at him.

"Thank you." Beni mocked, bowing to him. "Goodbye, my friend." Beni told Rick, all the while edging closer to Imhotep. "Come here." Rick growled at him – Beni, of course, had a little more sense then _that_.

" _Kill them_." Imhotep ordered even as he pulled Harry close- keeping a tight grip on Beni; Imhotep turned into a funnel of sand, alike to a tornado, with Beni and Harry in the 'peaceful' embrace of the center.

O.o.O.o.O.o.O

"No, let him go, let him go, you _monster_!" Evelyn yelled after it, Rick stopping her from going very far and running after him, even as the crowd closed in on them. Rick motioned a still Ardeth to the drain cover, lifting it, as one by one they went down it – Evelyn first, and then Ardeth.

"Come on." Rick urges Jonathon, who looks down in the darkened sewer with some disgust.

"What about my puzzle box –and Harry?" Jonathan asked, reluctantly going foreword.

"We're gonna get them back- you next." Rick said as Jonathan went down, motioning to Dr. Bey. The crowd was closing in, tighter, and both knew only one of them could make it before the other was killed.

"Go." Dr. Bey told him, knowing this.

"Come on." Rick urged, but Dr. Bay yelled and charged the crowd choosing to sacrifice himself, Rick jumped down, and closed the drain cover, they listened to Dr. Bey's final moments, and then rushed to find quick transport to Hamunaptra.

By the next day, Rick, luckily, had a plan – he, Ardeth, Jonathan, and Evelyn arrived in a car to a plane port early the next morning. The three walked up to him – hoping Rick wasn't about to get them all killed.

"Morning Winston, a word." Rick asked, the man looked up, squinting at him, somewhat red. Evelyn hoped very dearly that it was because of the sun rather then the drink.

"So, what's your little problem got to do with his majesties Royal Air Corp.?" Winston asked amusedly.

"Not a damn thing." Rick told him frankly, grinning slightly.

"Is it dangerous?" Winston asked, somewhat hopefully.

"Well, you probably won't live through it." Rick answered, again, far too truthfully – if a bit lightheartedly then Evelyn approved of.

"By jove, do you really think so?" Winston inquired; Ardeth thought the man had likely _never_ been in true danger in his life if this was what he what he was hoping to do with it.

"Well, everyone else we've bumped into has died, why not you?" Rick thought, smiling slightly, as if they were discussing pleasanter topics.

"What's the challenge?" Winston asked, willing to be amused.

"Kill the bad guy, and save the world." Rick answered; Winston stood and shook his hand. "Ha, ha, Winston Havalock, at your service, Sir." Surprising it took very little time for them to get on their way.

Rick sat in the 'back' seat of the plane (with Evelyn in his lap), behind Winston, with Jonathan and Ardeth strapped to the wings. They flew over a hill and Rick checked to make sure they were alright. To which Jonathan replied "Do I bloody well look alright?" and Ardeth was too busy thinking about something else entirely.

 _Remembering_ , actually, when Imhotep had called out Harry's name – Harii, memories had flooded back to him. Memories of being Death, one of the Eldest Immortals, and of Chaos, his once love – now frozen in the Between, and of his sisters.

Which reminded him, he was going to have a _long_ talk with Eternity about 'memory' key words for Immortals locked in the bodies and memories of their own making…

Then, Ardeth –or Death as he was referring to himself as once more, felt Imhotep, and turned, seeing a sand storm appearing behind them.

"See that, I've never seen one so big." Winston yelled to Rick.

"What? Never?" Rick yelled back to be heard over the roaring sand.

"No." Winston yelled back as the sands pulled up into a wall, and the form of a face, Rick glimpses it, staring in horror. " _Oh. My. God._ Winston, _pedal faster_!" Rick urges as Winston tells them to hang on.

The plane spins, out of control, and Death flexes his power- shifting the balance – in payment for one life. He couldn't chose it, but he knew one was better then all of the mortals dieing – Harry would never forgive him for that.

Rick falls out, with Evelyn alive, if cradled in his lap. Death, of course, lives, being Immortal and all.

"Excuse me; a little _help_ would be useful if it's not too much _trouble_." Jonathan grumbles, Rick goes to help him as Evelyn and Death watch as he is saved, leaving…Winston.

"Winston, Winston." Rick calls, touching his neck in search for a pulse, there isn't one – Death knows that.

The plane shifts too quickly, and Death calls a warning. "Quick sand, get back, quick sand." Rick leaps away, and they watch in silence as the man who had just helped them, and his plane, sink into the sand. Lost forever…

Rick, in a show of unexpected sorrow, salutes him, and the others set out to finish what they started.

Together, they walk into the desert- to Hamunaptra.


	10. A Few Evil Mummys

"Take those bigger stones first, take them from the top - otherwise the whole thing will cave in on us, come on, put your backs into it." Jonathan ordered Rick and Ardeth about; they shared a glace and then turned to glare at Jonathan. Evelyn rolls her eyes as she studies some of the hieroglyphs on the wall – for all she knows it could be her last chance to.

"Yes, well, you've got the idea, chop, chop." Jonathan trailed off; Death resisted the urge to silence him- _permanently_... Harry would have been proud. Jonathan, somewhat discomfited, wondered off to 'admire' some of the jeweled scarabs on the wall across from Evelyn; carefully he picked one out with a pocket knife, and once free, turned it around in his hand, admiringly.

"I say, you should come and have a look at _this_." Jonathan murmured, so softly Rick nearly didn't hear him. Evelyn turned to look – giving her brother a disapproving sniff. Jonathan shrugged, grinning only slightly.

Jonathan – his attention on the others, didn't notice as the 'jewel' suddenly cracked open, revealing a _real_ scarab hiding inside all along. Jonathan felt the 'jewel' move, and turned to look at his hand – his eyes widening, and his mouth opening to yell as the scarab burrowed itself into his hand – and started making its way _up_ _his arm_.

"What?" Rick growls, having come over to him when he had yelled. Ardeth, puzzled, stands just behind him.

"My arm, _my arm_." Jonathan hisses, yelping and jumping around at the sensation of something crawling under his skin – _literally_ ; Rick rips his shirt open to see what he's making such a fuss about.

"Whoa – _hold_ him." Rick tells Ardeth, who obeys – looking slightly worried.

"Do something, do _something_." Jonathan chants his eyes wide as they follow its progress to his shoulder. Jonathan sees Rick pull out a very shiny and _sharp_ knife. "Oh, God…" Evelyn whispers, her eyes wide as she fears for her brother's life.

"Not that, _not that_." Jonathan whimpers, groaning in pain as Rick ignores him and uses the knife to dig it out, Ardeth holding him steady, even after Rick flicks it across the room.

Ardeth watched, somewhat amused, as it shakes itself and scuttles back to them – apparently liking Jonathan's taste.

Rick shot at it – too late realizing that he had just given away their position.

O.o.O.o.O.o.O

Imhotep ran his fingers through Harry's hair and down his cheek, lifting his chin – a thumb rubbing against his bottom lip. Harry could do little about this – as he was shackled to a stone alter.

Imhotep leaned down to kiss him – his lips pressing against Harry's his tongue, cool to the touch, swiping against his; Imhotep jerked away when he heard the gun shot, snarling, he hissed a spell, taking a jar and tipping out the dust – blowing it at the carvings on the wall.

The walls shuddered, and mummies jerked out of the walls – limping, pained, Harry felt a brief moment of pity for them. He couldn't help but hope that Ardeth – Death, would be able to put them to a final rest.

As the mummies limp off to where Ardeth and the others undoubtedly are, Imhotep turns back to Harry – this time he has no intention of kissing him…Harry risked a glance for the mummified corpse of Anck-su-namun, which lay beside him.

O.o.O.o.O.o.O

Meanwhile, the others had made it through a gap into a larger room. Rick saw a mirror, and before Evelyn could glare at him, he shot at it, sending it spinning, and then letting in the suns rays.

"Is that any way to treat an ancient object?" Evelyn growled at him, Rick chuckled before turning to see what had gotten the rest of his companions so tongue-tied. It was a hidden treasure chamber; everywhere they looked as they walked down the stair pathway was gold.

"Can you see?" Jonathan inquired hoping he wasn't dreaming.

"Yes." Rick answered, somewhat amusedly at the awe in his voice.

"Can you believe…?" Jonathan asked, turning to look at a gold statue keeping his eyes on it- even going so far as to walk backwards.

"Yes." Rick responded, chuckling – Evelyn smiled amusedly at her brothers antics.

"Can we?" Jonathan wondered aloud, turning around again, wishing he had more eyes to see all the treasure with.

" _No_." Rick and Evelyn answered firmly. Jonathan _almost_ pouted. There was a noise, and the three found themselves spinning around – wondering if Jonathan had touched something that was about to kill them all.

They were close to the truth, for coming out of the sand, crawling out of it – were mummies, rising like zombies from the grave.

"Who the hell are these guys?" Rick demanded of the two that would know – Ardeth and Evelyn.

"Priests." Evelyn answered, taking a step back, to get a gold spear.

"Imhotep's priests." Ardeth clarified, remembering them from Death's point of view.

"Oh, well then, I take it's alright to shoot them?" Rick teased, Evelyn nodded quite seriously; Ardeth and Rick started firing, and Evelyn dragged her poor gold-struck brother behind them as they started to run from the room- the mummies, much like the scarabs – following.

Behind the mummies – Evelyn spotted Beni looking around the treasure room.

O.o.O.o.O.o.O

Jonathan, having given up the treasure room in favor of his life, ran into a room with a statue of Horus, luck, it seemed, was with them today.

"Hello, Horus ole boy." Jonathan greeted the statue – as he hid behind it, dragging his sister with him; Evelyn sent him a look that clearly meant she doubted his sanity. Jonathan resisted the urge to stick out his tongue.

Rick had given his gun to Ardeth, to get some dynamite out of his bag – dynamite, Evelyn hadn't _known_ he had packed, but she found herself glad he did, even if he would get a rather though lecture for it.

"Time to close the door." Rick said as he lighted the dynamite on Ardeth's beard, and then grabbed him as they went to join Evelyn and Jonathan behind the statue of Horus. Then the explosion sounded – and rocks of an ancient ruin tumbled down, blocking the mummies from getting at them right away.

Rick and Jonathan rushed into action trying to get the Gold Book out of the bottom of the statue, even as Ardeth reloaded – then looked up to see the mummies getting through the minor cave-in.

"These guys don't quit do they?" Rick grumbled as he worked, having seen the mummies hands reaching out for them.

"Keep digging." Ardeth answered shortly, an idea Harry would not have approved of coming to him – to sacrifice this body to give Harry a chance. As if it was a sign, the others pulled out a chest, quickly opening it – then unwrapping its covering, but Ardeth knew it was the Book of the Living.

"The book of Amun-ra." Jonathan crowed in triumph and awe. The guns Ardeth had been firing at the mummies ran out of shot.

"Save Harry, kill the creature." Ardeth orders Rick and Evelyn as he charges into the horde of mummies, Rick – unthinkingly, grabs another dynamite and lights it –then pauses, realizing that Ardeth would be mortally wounded – or killed by the blast.

"What are you waiting for? Get out, _get out_." Ardeth yelled at him – Rick nods, seeing Ardeth going deeper into the horde, and hoping that he would escape unscathed – hoping for a miracle (because otherwise Harry would _kill_ him – Rick wasn't blind, he had seen the way the two of them looked at each other) Rick threw the stick.

"Alright! _Go_!" Rick yelled, sending Jonathan and Evelyn running for the corner, Rick at their heels.

O.o.O.o.O.o.O

Imhotep was chanting a spell from the Book of the Dead – and Harry held very still, even as he felt Anck-su-namun's soul being called back from the dead…He swallowed as he saw the pool bubbling, her soul emerging, flowing over the surrounding mummies – then over Harry, and into Anck-su-namun.

She _wakes_ , going from being a corpse to something with a spark of life in it, she thrashs against invisible bindings – Harry knew it was the last thing that held her to death…otherwise, she was Imhotep's puppet.

"With your death, Anck-su-namun shall live, and I shall be invincible." Imhotep told him, raising the sword. For a few long moments, Imhotep held a sword above him, clutching tightly to its golden hilt – Harry stared at him – for a moment Imhotep seemed to hesitate.

"I've found it, I've found it." Jonathan yells from the top of the stairs of the chamber, breaking the tense silence that had been held between them – and, most important, interrupting the ritual. Imhotep turned around, his eyes widening as he saw the Book of the Living.

"The Book of Amun-ra." Imhotep walks around the table – to Jonathan.

"Open the book. Jonathan it's the only thing to kill him. You have to open the book and find the inscription." Harry told him, yelling, even as he saw Evelyn appear from behind Jonathan.

"I can't open it, it's locked or something, we need the key." Evelyn told him, as Imhotep approached them- Evelyn lowered the spear that she had brought from the treasure room.

"It's inside his robes." Harry answered – shortly, for Rick had somehow managed to get behind Imhotep unnoticed, and had grabbed Imhotep's sword, braking one of the shackles.

Imhotep, of course, noticed this – and pointing at Rick, ordered the mummies to stop him. Rick moved in a blur of motion, fighting them – and when he had thought he had won, and was grinning in a way that suggested he was the best – going back to Harry to cut him free, he went down, a mummy having grabbed his leg. He lost the sword.

Another half of a mummy appeared, trying to crush him with a piece of stone.

Harry, rolling his eyes, decided enough was _enough_. He grumbled and decided to free himself – waste of magic or not. The fact that he didn't have a wand and the magic _could_ blow his hand off didn't really matter if he was going to die anyway.

Luckily the rest of the magic decided to explode the stone (and decided to 'kill' the rest of the mummy parts) that was about to crush Rick – just as Rick had grabbed a mummy's hand – which had grabbed the sword. It was a draw over which could have saved him first.

"Here's an inscription!" Jonathan said, reading an inscription on the cover. Two doors on either side of the staircase Evelyn and Jonathan stood on banged open – in marched the mummies of Pharaoh's bodyguards. Imhotep smiled.

"Oh... _boy_." Jonathan groans, even as Imhotep ordered them to attack Rick.

"Oh, yeah, this just keeps getting better and _better_." Rick snarls, preparing to fight these mummies, who had been much better trained in life (who had _swords_...) – deciding quickly after the first thrust that the other ones, Imhotep's priests, had been lazy in comparison.


	11. Ridin' Into The Sunset

Harry didn't have much of a chance to enjoy his freedom – as Rick fought back the new mummies; Anck-su-namun seemed to _remember_ Harry, and apparently she _still_ held a grudge after some three-thousand years.

"Do _something_ Jonathan." Evelyn hissed to her brother, watching as Rick engaged in battle with the mummies, and worriedly biting her lip.

"Me?" Jonathan yelped, eyeing the golden spear and _hoping_ Evelyn didn't intend for him to fight the mummies with Rick – or fight Imhotep, who watched the mummies fighting (and seeming to beat) Rick with a gleeful expression on his face.

"Yes, you can _command_ them." Evelyn retorted, raising the spear threateningly at her brother –who cowered. Even if Evelyn didn't know how to use it – it was still an intimidating sight for Jonathan. His timid and bookish sister was _threatening_ him!

"You have _got_ to be joking." Jonathan said, looking down at the fight between Rick and the well trained mummies.

"Finish the inscription on the cover, _then_ you can control them." Evelyn growled, rolling her eyes when her brother pushed the book at her.

" _You_ do it!" Jonathan begged. "I can't, _you_ started to read the inscription, and _you_ have to finish it!" Evelyn explained in a rush, seeing Harry had been thrown into the stone table and wasn't getting up as fast as she'd like.

"Right." Jonathan said weakly, as Evelyn saw a chance and took it – running the rest of the way down the stairs to aid Harry. Jonathan followed her, looking at the book. Imhotep said something that Evelyn didn't catch…however she felt sure that whatever it was wasn't good.

"Hurry up Jonathan!" Evelyn yelled as she dropped the spear and Anck-su-namun hissed at her.

"I can't figure out this last symbol." Jonathan said, not looking up from the book as Evelyn was thrown down next to Harry - Anck-su-namun strode foreword –toward them, Evelyn's spear in her hands.

"What does it look like?" Evelyn asked, looking for some form of a weapon, Harry groaning beside her –only now stirring from having been thrown earlier.

"It's a –a-a bird, a _stork_." Jonathan tried to explain.

" _Ahmenophus_!" Harry yelped, and it seemed to Evelyn a shield went up around them just as Anck-su-namun struck down with the spear – sending it flying.

"Oh yes, I see…" Jonathan looked up to thank him, and saw Anck-su-namun had the two of them by the throats- strangling them, and Rick was about to be beheaded with all the swords pointing at his throat.

"Hootashin Ahmenophus!" Jonathan yelped, and the mummies froze.

Imhotep turns – noticing Jonathan so close, he steps to him, and Jonathan's mummies stand up, facing him. Imhotep tries to order them to attack again –but they stand as still as statues waiting for Jonathan's orders.

"Fa kooshka Anck-su-namun." Jonathan snarls, seeing Anck-su-namun about to seek away. His little sister might scare him sometimes – but he would not let some mummy who had almost killed her get away.

Anck-su-namun shrieks for help even as she is surrounded. Imhotep turns to Jonathan as he tries to reach his sister's and Harry's side – only to be interrupted mid-way by Imhotep marching towards him.

" _Give me that book…!_ " Imhotep orders him, before hearing Anck-su-namun screaming as for the second time she is killed before Imhotep's eyes, Imhotep whispers her name sadly…then – turns back to Jonathan.

" _Now you die_!" Imhotep growls as he grabs Jonathan. From behind him, Jonathan sees as Rick approaching, sword in his hands, with a downward lunge he cuts off the arm that has Jonathan – Jonathan falls back, crab-crawling to get away from Imhotep's arm, the hand still clenched, as if clutching his throat.

As Imhotep stands there with just one arm, looking mortal, Harry sees that for the first time Rick realizes Imhotep is, for now, truly immortal –and Rick is not. Imhotep picks up Rick with is other arm, and throws him, carelessly, across the room – like Rick is nothing but a broken doll.

As if to prove this, Imhotep takes his arm from the floor – and it reattaches itself. Then, apparently finding satisfaction in beating on Rick – Imhotep goes after him. Jonathan, not really believing his luck in escaping Imhotep alive, finally gets to Evelyn and Harry, giving Evelyn the book – and grinning.

"Evie, I've got it!" Jonathan tells her – showing off the key which he had gotten as Imhotep had been distracted with Anck-su-namun's dieing.

"Keep him busy." Evelyn orders Harry, as he gets up to help Rick. Harry nods, then turning to Imhotep, shoots unstable spells at him – trying to distract and annoy him, as none of the spells stick for more then five seconds. But, Imhotep _is_ thrown backwards by one.

"No problem." Rick groans – seeing Harry he grins – but Harry doesn't return it, he looks on worriedly. When the spells ware off, Imhotep goes after Harry – only to have Rick hit him over the head with a jar – and Harry cast a few more rushed spells.

Imhotep turns on Rick, trying to kill him by sucking the life out of him. Harry seeing this – tries an Unforgivable pain curse, only to have Imhotep roar and turn on him, sand snaking up from under Harry – entombing him.

"Hurry, Evie, _hurry_!" Jonathan begs seeing Harry being swallowed by the sand.

"You're not helping!" Evelyn snaps at her brother – Rick tenses expecting to die any moment only to have Evelyn save him.

"I've got it!" Evelyn chants the rest of the spell – Imhotep backing away from Rick, frozen. They watch as from the top of the stairs comes a ghostly chariot – a woman in armor, and _someone_ cloaked riding upon it.

The cloaked man glides off, even as the woman drives the chariot through Imhotep, stealing a part of his soul. Imhotep runs after it –but the chariot disappears – the cloaked man… does not.

Imhotep, in a fury, turns back to the others – strait to Rick, who kneels to pick up his sword again.

"I thought you said it was gonna kill him!" Rick yells, and as Imhotep gets to Rick – Rick stabs him in the stomach with the sword – Imhotep cries out, blood coming up from the wound, he clutchs his stomach- falling back, looking at the blood on his hand in confusion.

"He's mortal." Imhotep falls back into the pool of darkness, dissolving into a mummy, speaking even as he is swallowed – going under, disappearing from sight.

"Death is only the beginning." Evelyn translates softly… they turn to the cloaked man – who stands next to the dune of sand that swallowed Harry; he touches it –and the sand resides, Harry falling out of it, looking very dead.

The cloaked man picks him up – and both he, and Harry's body, disappears.

Hamunaptra shudders around them, and Rick grabs Evelyn's arm – just as a stone that could have killed her falls where she had stood.

"Time to go!" Rick hollers- as they run, Jonathan trips – the book dropping into the pool.

"You've lost the book Jonathan, I _can't_ believe…" Evelyn yells, looking after it longingly, Rick grabs her, pulling toward the stairs.

"Come on!" Rick yells, and Jonathan helps him pull her away from the pool –and into the treasure room, where Jonathan gives the room one last longing look.

"Couldn't we just…" Jonathan begins, Rick yanks him away. "No Jonathan." They race up the stairs, and Beni comes after them – Evelyn and Jonathan start to crawl through a gap of lowering stone.

"O'connell, O'connell wait, please." Beni begs Rick hurry's the rest onward- turning back to Beni.

"Come on, come on, come on, Beni, come on!" Rick urges – just as the gap becomes too small and Rick jerks his hand back as it shuts. " _Please_." Rick hears Beni beg, he shuts his eyes – turning away.

"Goodbye, Beni…." They start to run through the falling ruins, the very sand collapsing beneath their feet. Pillars near by fall – and they get to the camels – looking back to the city folding in upon itself sending bits of sand, dust, and rubble everywhere. They had lost everyone else – but they had done it. They had killed Imhotep.

Suddenly, from behind them, a bandaged hand, alike to a mummies, taps Jonathan on the shoulder – they scream and jump.

"Oh, thank you, thank you _very_ much." Jonathan growls sarcastically at Ardeth, who smirks.

"You have earned the respect and gratitude of me and my people." Ardeth tells them, watching as Evelyn and Rick embrace, he smiles.

"Yes, well, it was nothing." Jonathan grumbles, disappointed that all that gold and treasure he had seen was gone forever. Worse, he knew, even though it hadn't quite hit them, was that Harry was gone – just then, they heard laughter.

Harry peeked from behind Ardeth, who chuckled at the look of shock on their faces.

Evelyn opened her mouth to ask _how_ \- but Rick covered it- not wanting to know. _Here was something,_ he thought, _that should remain mysterious_ ; even if Evelyn would never forgive him for thinking that, and would likely hold it over his head.

"May Allah smile on you always." Ardeth murmured softly, his eyes on the ruins. Harry winked at them.

"And yourself – yes, anytime." Jonathan mutters, still staring at Harry, who wraps his arms around Ardeth, grinning at the _somewhat_ speechless Jonathan. Ardeth turns the camel, riding off- the two parting, Harry waves, and the others follow his example.

"Stay outta trouble." Rick yells after them.

"They're just leaving us here? Well… I guess we go home empty handed – again." Jonathan mutters, not admitting to himself that he is _slightly_ jealous of Ardeth, and feeling very much the third wheel.

"I wouldn't say that…" Rick murmurs softly, staring at Evelyn, kissing her –and hugging her close to him.

"Oh, _please_." Jonathan grumbles, grabbing the reins of a camel.

"How about you darling? Want a little kissy wissy? – Pooh!" He was quite unprepared for when the camel did 'kiss' him. After Rick finishes laughing at him, they saddle up – Rick riding with Evelyn, and Jonathan following on his camel.

O.o.O.o.O.o.O

Just over a nearby rise, where three years ago, Ardeth had watched Rick walk away form Hamunaptra.

Harry, sitting with Death on a camel, which fades to form into a great white horse; Rick and the others, would have recognized it as one of the horses from the ghostly chariot. They watch as their friends leave, riding into the sunset, even if it wasn't very practical.

"How long do you think it will take them to find that gold?" Harry asks Death, leaning into his embrace, comforted.

" **Not long at all, Beloved**." Death kisses Harry's neck, and they ride into their own sunset, slowly disappearing from the desert…only to reappear in Death's home in the Immortal Realms.

Just in time for Harry's Immortal Naming.


	12. The Keeper of Archways and Crossroads

The sand swallowed Harry up, and Harry remembered every moment of it.

Harry had felt as, inch by inch, he was enveloped with sand – seemingly alive as it slithered its way up his body, swallowing him up bit-by-bit. Harry was unable to move away, unable to scream as the sand crawled over his face – his nose, eyes, and mouth filling up with it, taking away his air.

Through the dense sand Harry heard them, faintly, as if they were very far away. He realized he was dying, that he was the one fading away.

For a while, there was nothing but the blackness that was fading to whiteness.

Then, something inside him leaped up, freed, that something, Harry somehow knew, had tied him to Imhotep. It had snapped – and without that link, Harry found himself with a dead weight, heaviness, all around him.

Harry opened his eyes then, though he had not known they had been shut, what he saw before him filled him with wonder.

Ahead of him was an Arch, black as ink, the statue of a two headed serpent peering down at him from the top, coiled around their Arch, the path under them was amber flicked with gold.

Then another Arch caught Harry's eyes, this one made of something as white as ivory, and two winged horses rearing, their hooves meeting mid way, latching together; forming this Arch - and a ruby-red path flowed away, like blood spilled between them.

The third, he spun around to see – this Arch was gold, and two golden hounds leaned on the base of their Arch, with emeralds lining down their path.

" **It is lovely, isn't it?** " Harry turned quickly to see who had spoken, standing under the winged-horse ivory Arch was a woman, who held a staff of black, white, and gold, the gems in each reflected the path underneath, and she looked motherly, proud, and innocent all at once.

" _Yes…but - who are you_?" Harry asked her, the way his voice echoed telling him he was again in that place _Between_ places, where he had first spoke to Death.

" **I am Keeper, and there is little enough time to explain. Will you listen, Beloved of Death**?" Harry found himself nodding, for it felt the right thing to do. She smiled, and he knew he had made the right choice.

" **I may be Immortal, but to Keep the Arches of the Crossroads, even to be Immortal is no sure thing – and the Arches _must_ be Kept, little one, do you understand me?** " Harry frowned, the Arches as the woman called them, were very beautiful things, but they did not seem to be something worth your life to keep.

" **I can see that you do not. The Arches are the Doorways – the Crossroads, to the Immortal Realm, the Mortal Realm, and the Underworld. Should the Keeper fall, another must be Chosen**." Harry blinked up at her; what she saying what he thought she meant, that she, an Immortal, was dieing?

" _W-what_?" Harry yelped, drawing away from her, from the center of the Crossroads, in a matter of seconds, vegetation grew forming it's self into a chair for its new Keeper.

" **I have failed, little one, the Crossroads have never been so cleared of mist. You, little one, were not meant to die – but because you have, yet again, died a third time, and because you are Beloved of Death, and he would tear the Realms apart for you, the only answer is to pass the Immortal Name of Keeper to you. Unlike the rest of the Names, this one is who you are, not what you are responsible for, or do**." The Keeper tried to explain, but seeing she was only confusing Harry all the more, she sighed, closed her eyes – and was _gone_ , dead.

" _What was the point of that? Well? What am I to do now_?" Harry yelled into the Arches, suddenly a tinkering of seven bells, from one that sounded like drops of rain, to one that rung clear and sharp in his ears – and then ceased.

Then, Harry _understood_ in its entirety what it meant to be Keeper of the Arches and Crossroads, for the memories of all the Immortal Keepers before him was shoved into his brain, and burned into his thoughts, and the Arches and Crossroads _forced_ it's new Keeper to become Immortal.

O.o.O.o.O.o.O

It should not have come to surprise Harry that, when he awoke, the statue of the two-headed serpent was staring at him.

 _Visitors_ , it whispered into his mind. _Immortal_ , a different voice insisted, Harry turned around – and caught the eye of one of the great grim-looking golden dogs. It shook itself, and Harry watched as the gold dog walked over to him, nudged his hand with its nose and led him to the winged-horse Arch; the path of Immortals.

An armored Immortal woman drove a chariot, and before she could go through, the two huge winged-horses unlocked their hooves and stood, immobile, planted firmly in the ruby-red path – empty eyes staring at the Immortal woman.

" **What is the meaning of this Keeper, you know the Laws, and I have been summoned**." Hissed the Immortal, furious, she, for the first time, looked past the winged horses to see Harry.

" **So….they have Chosen…Keeper, Beloved of Death, Harry Potter, I name you; I am Eternity, I have been summoned, in place of Death, I ask to pass into the Mortal Realms**." The Immortal revealed her self to be Eternity, Death's Immortal sister, and as close to him as any of the Immortal's could claim to be.

" **Take me with you**." Harry asked of her, and Eternity nodded, knowing that Death was still in the Mortal Realms, and the Keeper could not pass the Arches without an escort.

O.o.O.o.O.o.O

As Harry approached his body, buried in a dune of sand, he knew it was too late – for all he was Immortal now, and knew who, and what, he would be, he was Unnamed among the Immortals.

Harry glanced at their faces, and realized that in the short amount of time he had known them, they had become friends. Jonathan, Evelyn, and Rick, they looked as if they wanted to protest what he was doing, but before they could – Harry disappeared, locking onto Death's location.

" **Oh, Harry…** " Death murmured, seeing Harry appear with his own body in his arms.

"Don't… Death…I don't want them to think we died here…." Harry spoke, using his 'mortal' voice, he couldn't explain, why, exactly, he felt this way – but it was something he intended to follow up with.

To let them think the mortal versions of their friends lived on. Harry, as a Keeper, felt those personas would be needed in the future. Death nodded his agreement, willing to go along with most anything his Beloved wanted.

" **What do you intend, then**?" Death asked, slowly slipping their mortal bodies into the sand.

"To surprise them." Harry answered, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"Of, course…" Death said as his body changed into the 'disguise' of Ardeth. Harry smiled, and slipped off his black cloak, his body solidifying to look less ghostly. A soft whinny was heard, and from behind them, a white horse appeared.

It was one of the chariot horses. Harry called it over, clicking his tongue softly, and explained in soft, gentle whispers, what he wanted the 'horse' to do. Swiftly, it changed its shape, growing and changing into a creamy-furred camel.

They did not have to wait long for Rick and the other two to appear, running full-pelt away from the crumbling ruins. Death, in amused mood, decided to approach them from behind, and Harry was more pleased then he could admit to that they had been, after all, been missed.

Death apparently feeling mischievous, blessed them by Allah, and gave them his 'peoples respect and gratitude' – Harry had a hard time keeping from laughing outright.

Then, Harry knew, it was time for the Immortal Naming, which allowed the other Immortals to know him – to know that he had been Chosen – and then, he reasoned as he let himself feel comforted in Death's secure embrace, they would accept the joining of a Keeper and Death.

O.o.O.o.O.o.O

In life, Harry had had very little experience with women; his experience beginning with Hermione, one of his best friends, going on to Molly Weasley, who was motherly and kind, to Luna – who was strange and unearthly, and ending with Ginny, who was his best friends sister, and who had slapped him when Harry had mistaken a boy snogging with her for her being harassed – nothing prepared him for Death's sisters.

And, apparently, the Keepers before him had all been women – or found his situation too amusing to help him with.

"So, Death, just why is our Keeper still a virgin?" Love asked, smirking smugly at Death – who blushed at his older sister's blunt remark.


	13. The Dog Star – and the Unexpected Event (No, it's not Pregnancy)

In life, Harry had had very little experience with women; his experience beginning with Hermione, one of his best friends, going on to Molly Weasley, who was motherly and kind, to Luna – who was strange and unearthly, and ending with Ginny, who was his best friends sister, and who had slapped him when Harry had mistaken a boy snogging with her for her being harassed – nothing prepared him for Death's sisters.

And, apparently, the Keepers before him had all been women – or found his situation too amusing to help him with.

"So, Death, just why is our Keeper still a virgin?" Love asked, smirking smugly at Death – who blushed at his older sister's blunt remark.

None of his life experiences were helping him, _at all_ , when it came to Death's four sisters…

Love was interesting – she wasn't frail, as he had thought she might be. He remembered looking at one of Hermione's books – one that compared the ancient gods of Greece to the elements found in magic. He remembered Venus – the Roman Goddess of love – how frail she had looked with her thin frame – with wide blue eyes, and lush golden hair. Love was her opposite. Death's sister looked like

"Death is blushing!" Eternity spoke in a sing-song tone, as younger sisters usually do when they want to embarrass their older brothers…

Justice and Discord shared a rivaling look; and Death just _knew_ what they were going to say, and, in an attempt to keep it from Harry's ears, tried to get out of the celebration before his sisters could…

"Well, I think _this_ is quite enough of a celebration for this particular Keeper's Naming…" Death said in a rush, motioning for Harry to follow him – Harry started too when…

"Say, Keeper, when are you going to Bond?" _Too late_ , Death bemoaned, hearing Justice's tone…

"Bond?" Harry asked in a questioning tone, his attention on Death's sisters; Discord looked surprised for a moment, and then grinned at Death.

"Haven't you told him yet?" Discord smirked, and Death would have answered – but, again – he was too late.

"Yes, you are soul-mates, after all…" Justice told the newest Keeper, ignoring Death's look of frustration.

"No, I mean, what is a Bond?" Harry asked, Love raised an eyebrow, and then threw a smug look at Death. Eternity, guardian and watcher of the time, just gave him a ' _you deserve it_ ' look when Death threw her a pleading glance.

"Why, it's the finalization of soul-mates; once he Bonds with you, you won't be Parted…" Discord finished, looking rather triumphant.

"Parted?" Harry inquired, looking alarmed. Love nodded gravely, an amused twinkle in her eyes. Death rolled his eyes at her dramatics.

"Yes, well, soul-mates you might be – but, not all soul-mates are meant to be." Love told him, glancing at Death, who sighed, and hugged Harry from behind, his chin resting on Harry's shoulder as he glared at his sisters.

"Don't worry Beloved, soul-mates can only be Parted by one of these four – as, other then myself, they are only Immortals more powerful then ourselves, and, being at they are my _sisters_ –" Discord opened her mouth to say she wouldn't mind having Harry – Justice, sensing her sisters words, was quick to cover her mouth.

"And what to have a nice, long, _happy_ Immortality, they won't be doing something as _idiotic_ as Parting us; not that I don't _want_ to Bond with you Beloved, I do…I just… don't want to push you so early, once Bonded, it really is a Bond without end, or, in our case for all our Immortality." Death finished, and Harry frowned, but nodded, which Death took for a good sign. Death kissed his cheek, then seeing someone, brought him to Harry's attention.

"Ah, Harry, do you see over there? That is the Immortal who protects the Mirror-Worlds; you might be interested in getting to know him." Death told him, and Eternity smiling, waved the Immortal over. Harry's eyes had gone wide – his mouth forming a small 'oh' of surprise.

"Keeper." The Immortal greeted softly- if with a wide grin, dark eyes amused; his black hair was held back in a half-pony tail, he _last_ person Harry had expected to see _here_. Seeing as, after all, in Harry's time – he had seen him die…

" _Sirius_?" Harry asked- taken aback.

"Hell yeah, Harry, no one can kill _me_ …" The Protector, who was after all, or had apparently been, Sirius answered - his lips quirked in a half-smirk.

"How? _Why_? What?" Harry asked, glancing from Sirius, to Death, and then to Eternity, who seemed the most amused about Harry's reaction.

"How – _Eternity_. Why – fate, t'was 'meant to be' apparently. What _you_ are doing here, is what I _want_ to know…" Sirius murmured, glancing from Death to Eternity.

"I can see you two have much to catch up upon, so, Keeper – I trust I can barrow my brother?" Eternity spoke up, smiling slightly at the two – Harry nodded and turned back to his Godfather a man he had not seen in nearly five years – therefore it was obvious they had much catching up to do.

O.o.O.o.O.o.O

Much later, Death took a somewhat tipsy Harry 'home', his mind on what Eternity had told him.

"Death…." Harry whined, and Death looked down at him, somewhat amused. "Yes?" Death prodded when Harry fell into a silence. "I want _sex_." Harry told a rather baffled Death as he was promptly kissed firmly on the mouth.

After this confession, Harry managed, somehow, to fall asleep curled against Death. Death, bemused, carried Harry home – fully intent on making Harry his, when he was awake to enjoy it.

O.o.O.o.O.o.O

Harry awoke to warm kisses raining down on his neck and shoulders, and the flash of lightning flicking into his bedroom. Harry's lids flickered open, and he glanced over his currently-being-kissed-and-licked shoulder.

"This is because of last night, isn't it?" Harry asked as he turned his eyes over his shoulder. Only to meet Death's heated gaze. Harry swallowed, suddenly and unmistakably aroused.

"Oh, it _is_." Death purred into Harry's ear, a hot and wet tongue flicking out to lick along his ear. It tickled, but it made Harry want to squirm in other ways too. " _Don't_ move -or I'll touch you somewhere _else_." Death spoke into his ear at a whisper – a threat and promise all rolled into one. Death turned him easily onto his back, rolling over him, his hands to either side of Harry as Death looked down at him.

Thunder rolled and Harry shivered as Death brought one of his hands to his neck, holding it firmly – if gently, as he lent down to kiss Harry, his tongue slipping past parted lips to explore his mouth.

Harry's hands clenched into the sheets with a white knuckled grip as Death's _other_ hand reached between his bare thighs to rub and stroke Harry's balls. Despite himself, Harry's hips jerked into the mattress, and Death chuckled into the kiss, his hand leaving there to brush lightly up and down Harry's waist and torso, and Harry shuddered, breath hitching as Death played his advantage.

"Liked that did you?" Death asked, teasing, his lips brushing Harry's as he spoke. Harry gasped as Death's wandering hand was brought to one of Harry's nipples, playing and rubbing them. Though there was a rule about movement – there, luckily for Harry, wasn't one for making noises.

Death muffled a breathy whine with a kiss and then lent over Harry's chest – his mouth paying special attention to the other nipple, while his fingers played with one and his hand around Harry's neck relaxed, the fingers tangling into Harry's hair.

With every nip of Death's teeth, and rub of his fingers, Harry's pleasure mounted, his senses heightened to dizzying lengths when Death tongue danced across the tips, and Harry's plea for him to stop teasing halted all motion. Even the fingers around his neck ceased to flick and turn the hair at the base of his neck.

"What do you want then?" Death asked, and Harry, coming out of the fog of pleasure, realized that Death was quite intent upon this answer.

"I could have you come for me by tongue, and teeth, and touch alone…what else do you want?" Death inquired, seeking to get a clear answer from Harry – even with lust clouding his gaze.

"I-I want _you_." Harry's empathies upon the word, and the sheer emotion…and _need_ in it, made Death break into a smile, his figures trailed up the side of Harry's face to bush aside a stray lock of hair.

"Then, it is me you shall have." Death promised softly, leaning up to kiss Harry's forehead. Harry pressed up, and met Death's lips, it was Death who moaned into the kiss, and Harry's arms wrapped around him, holding him pressed to his body.

Harry was glad, for once, that Death had insisted upon a bed bigger then his year's dorm in Hogwarts. Harry arched up, his legs folding beneath him as he pressed Death into the mattress, kissing him – possessively all the while.

Harry found himself between Death's parted thighs; his upper body pressed the lengths of Death's as Death lay under him, shivering as Harry's warm breath was panted against his parted lips.

"Harry…" Death's voice was a mix of nervousness and sensuality-his tongue darted out to lick his own swollen lips.

"Hmm?" Harry mumbled as his hips arched and his length rubbed against Death's hardness.

Death's breath- caught in his throat, hissed out sharply – and he arched his hips and widened his legs – Harry found himself quite unexpectedly pressed against the globes of Death's arse, the tip of his length pressing against Death's warm entrance.

" _D-death_?" Harry hissed, barely controlled lust rushing through him, urging him to claim Death – push into him and thrust until they both yelled their completion.

"Take me…" Death murmured stretch out before Harry's gaze – his normally impeccable hair in disarray as it was scattered against the mattress or slicked against his head and face with sweat, his cheat heaving in shaky breaths, Harry gaze a jerky nod, and pressed himself slowly into Death's entrance, the feeling unlike any other.

Joined together, Death kissed and held Harry, then nodded – a slight tilt of his chin, and Harry started to push out of the slick heat of his lover's entrance. Harry groaned, and pushed himself into him again sliding into the tight grip – Harry didn't know which was better – thrusting out or in, but both were better together.

Harry took it slow, teasing the pain he know Death must be in, away with kisses and teasing touches to Death's nipples and sides. Soon, with Death watching him with a smug smile and lowered lashes, Harry knew he was doing well in pleasing and pleasuring his love.

Soon they were lost to the pleasure of their senses, and the lust of their actions, pain a distant memory in the face of the rising pleasure both gained. Awash in the afterglow of pleasure, neither cared as the storm raged around them, for curled around each other they knew they were safe.

O.o.O.o.O.o.O

Death woke to the sound of a horse's thundering footsteps racing across his marble floor. Harry stirred beside him, blinking open alert green eyes. Death thought he heard 'does Death really ride a pale horse?' from the other side of his closed wooden double doors.

A nay that echoed like a lion's roar filled his ears – and he flinched as a million old – now extinct, oak double doors shattered – and met marble flooring. Standing in what used to be the doorway was one of the two large winged marble houses who guarded the path of the Immortals on the Crossroads, and upon its back was Sirius.

Who looked rather panicked – and not of the sight of his 'innocent' god son in bed with the Immortal of Death


	14. A Parting of Ways

_Previously_ ;

A nay that echoed like a lion's roar filled his ears – and he flinched as a million old – now extinct, oak double doors shattered – and met marble flooring. Standing in what used to be the doorway was one of the two large winged ivory horses who guarded the path of the Immortals on the Crossroads, and upon its back was Sirius.

Who looked rather panicked – and not of the sight of his 'innocent' godson in bed with the Immortal of Death.

O.o.O.o.O.o.O

"Harry, we've got problems!" Sirius yelped – though the yelping was in part due to the winged stallion of white marble nearly throwing him off its back.

" _Sirius_? What are you doing here?" Harry demanded of his godfather, sitting up, the sheets pooling into his lap. Sirius didn't say anything about their states of undress, even as Death snarled silently at him for the shattered remains of his millennium old double doors.

"And what _problem_ would be so urgent you had to Awaken one of the Crossroad's Guardians?" Death asked with a pointed look at the winged stallion.

"Firstly, the Guardian came and got _me_ – and the problem, Harry, is that Imhotep _isn't_ dead anymore – or he won't be soon, _they are digging him up_." Sirius said in a rush, Harry nodded – even as Death tensed beside him, but Harry knew this to be true – for the Guardian's mental-voice was ringing with the truth in his godfather's words.

Sirius wasn't done yet – and he proved it a moment later after catching his breath and letting his words sink in.

" _Worse_ – he's got a woman with the soul of Anck-su-namun stuck in her helping to unbury him – you haven't _seen_ what those two could do to the Mortal Realms together!" Sirius finished, shivering – Harry felt for his godfather then, knowing the being the Immortal of the Mirrors was no more easy then being of the Crossroads.

Death felt fear coiling in his belly – as Eternity had warned him…not only was Imhotep a true Immortal now – or near enough to being one that he could be Called from it, he _knew_ about the Underworld.

Death knew what the other two didn't – that if he got past the veils – to the _Between_ , he could breach the Crossroads – and, Death knew, only the Guardians and Harry would stand in his way. If the Keeper failed…Death shook the thought away.

"Then we must go, _Eternity_! I have need of you, dear sister." Death spoke aloud, but Harry felt the unseen shift in the power around Death flex and pull – as he Called for his sister – who was quick to arrive.

Immortal customs – Harry was finding, were an odd sort, an Immortal would only enter your dwelling by the mortal way – or by being Called.

From what Harry remembered of last night, he knew entering Death's dwelling was nearly impossible the mortal way – he lived in a ship, of ebony wood and black sails, and it felt as old as the Immortal himself; only, the ship had been in a black ocean of mist-like thunder clouds… in the sky. This, Harry knew, was why the Guardian of the Immortal Realm had gone to Sirius.

"So," Eternity said, her eyes flicking over to Sirius, "you have seen the start of it?" Sirius, pale faced, nodded, and she sighed.

"I will go back to the Mortal Realms – Harry was right to let them think we were still alive, we will need that advantage now – how much time has passed for them?" Death asked, frowning over slightly, Harry blinked at this.

"Nearly half dozen years, and what is worst, brother, is that Chaos is stirring." Eternity continued, Harry swallowed, for he – being nearest to Death, felt the air chill around them.

" _How_?" Death demanded, his black eyes flashing silver.

"We do not know – but it has something to do with the future, around the timeline the Keeper was born in originally, something, I believe, has been sent back there that I, nor Sirius _saw_." Eternity told him, Death hissed out a chilled breath, his gaze resting on Harry.

Harry knew why – as the Keeper, only he could actually _change_ what was seen by the Protector and Guardian.

It was why, among other things, the Crossroads lay in the _Between_ , at in the heart of the Crossroads of the Realms and Underworld – and consequently, the Mirror-Worlds and Watcher of Time.

"I will go back," Harry said, when Death opened his mouth to protest, he quickly went on, "whatever it is needs to be fixed before Chaos stirs to Awaking, and we can not handle both Imhotep and Anck-su-namun at the same time as Chaos." Harry finished – they all, at least, knew that to be true. Death did not have to _like_ it – but he knew it to be true.

"You'll have to go alone." Death warned, hoping to sway him – Harry, stubborn as he was – merely shook his head, a small sad smile on his lips.

"At least take Anceps with you." Death said hopefully, a look of confusion crossed his features, and then cleared and he looked at Death, somewhat amused.

"You named the two-headed snake Guardian on the Arch of the Underworld, _two-headed_?" Harry asked, amused, Death shrugged, and Harry chuckled.

"Well, one of the Guardians will have to come with me, to prove who I am if I run into another Immortal." Harry mused, but Eternity shook her head warningly.

"No, if you go Keeper, you must _stay_ in the Mortal Realms, fix what needs to be fixed – and then the Protector and I will pull you out, only Anceps will be able to communicate between those of us you choose to do so with, partly, I think this is the reason Death wants you to take _that_ Guardian, it has a affinity with him, and will be a way for him to speak and check up on you." Eternity told Harry, smiling when her brother frowned at her.

"Sometimes, Eternity, I think you know me too well…" Death mumbled, and Eternity smiled mysteriously.

"None the less, I am right, and – for now, you both must part from one another for a time." Eternity spoke, and Death's eyes trailed over Harry, and he nodded, quickly – as if it pained him.

"I _will_ take Anceps." Harry promised him, throwing his arms around the other Immortal's waist, and Death held him, nuzzling his face into Harry's hair.

O.o.O.o.O.o.O

In a swirl of shadows – Death had left Harry at the Crossroads, bound for the Mortal Realm. For all that his heart ached in doing so, he knew it was even worse it was their sworn duty that interrupted their lives.

 _Sometimes_ , Death thought as he literally raised his "mortal" body from the desert sands he loved, _life just isn't fair_. In a swirl of shadows, Death had entered the 'old' body – not different then his own save that it forced his power to reign in – and the memories of living in it to the forefront of his "mind", as if slipping on a glove.

Death had thought it a good mask – with the others he knew, somehow, that this would affect, having memories of him in it – even if they hadn't known him as Death.

Bur, what he hadn't prepared for was that wearing _this_ face of once again – had brought back memories. Death had lived as 'this' man for nearly half a decade – for all his power and lack of memory he had been a 'mortal' – although his Immortal power had kept him from being killed – knowing or unknowing, the part of him that was Ardeth had become predominate – simply because, Death _was_ Ardeth.

Not much had changed in the shift of "personality" – the desert was still precious to him, Harry was still the bright light of peace for him - he held all of his memories –though the ones of Ardeth were particularly close to the surface. But – still, knowledge of the desert that Death had known – but didn't think important – information of the desert people and their ways and yearly travels – all that knowledge was "important" – dwelled upon, where Death had just skimmed over it, knowing it, but not holding such a simple thing as a skill or preference for weapons as important. As Ardeth – Death did.

Soon, Death was lulled into the 'back' of Ardeth Bay's 'mind', where Death had stood now stood Ardeth. His first thought? What would his people – the Ma-jei - think for he had been gone half a dozen years? Death soothed him – assuring him they would merely think he'd gone to patrol the outer lands alone – a quest. Not unheard of. Ardeth found him self relaxing – they would take that as a reason for him suddenly appearing in Hamunaptra among the people who dug into its grounds. That he had gotten word of such a dig, and investigated it rather then frightening so many away.

It would, after all, interest the Ma-jei to know what had driven so many out here – on the 'whim' of a individual, to the middle of no where – to dig in a ancient "cursed" city of the dead.

So – in the true dark of the desert night, Ardeth Bay – alone for all that he stood in a creator made by men, men who dug still, digging into sands over the very heart of Hamunaptra. A call went out among the diggers ahead – in the next sand dune over. Did they not care that they dug into the cursed sands of Hamunaptra? That a certain amount of soberness was needed, no – required in what they did? Death – or rather Death-in- Ardeth – leader of the Ma-jei, thought they were being exceedingly reckless.

So he stood among them – a witness, cloaked in the shadows of the night, the shadows that – just as with the Immortal Death, kept him from being noticed by the dozens of men surrounding him. Ardeth understood – he _was_ Death. An Immortal feared and worshiped since the dawn of humanity. Ardeth also understood, through Death – so like himself, and yet not - that there hadn't always been Immortals – there had been "Gods", terrible and cunning beings who were Ancient in themselves – but in the world of today, they slept.

Ardeth shifted his attention from the screaming men who were being devoured by scarabs. He saw the souls of the dead men rise up, pale ghosts, unseen by mortal eyes. That, he supposed, was the most convincing proof. The ghosts - souls, upon seeing him there – so still and patient, came to him, huddling around him, waiting to be noticed. These souls recognized _him_ for what he was in their death as they had not in life.

Their fellow men at least waited until their bodies were dead before setting the flamethrowers upon them, the blaze of flame leaping from the pipe. The huddle of dead shivered, in response to Ardeth's own deep realization. In the hot air of the desert night, he understood also – that save for all plausible explanations – he had died trying to escape Hamunaptra. He had _become_ Death – just as Harry had become the Keeper of the Crossroads.

A throb of pure power – the raw power of an Immortal, ran down his spine. **_You did not die – you are as much a part of me, as my nature is a part of you. You cannot die. You never did. You are me. I am you. Try to understand that._**

Ardeth sighed – it seemed, also, that "Death" – or he - had a habit of talking to himself if his words were true. Why _wouldn't_ they be though? Death had no reason to lie to him; Ardeth _did_ remember the Immortal Realm – his, "Death's" domain – making love with Harry…it just seemed far away. As if another life – or _his_ life had been the other life, for all that he "wore" his own body and once again walked the desert he loved.

Another call went out – they had found him, Imhotep. Ardeth's jaw clenched as he remembered Imhotep's interest in Harry. Despite his fury - he could not help but cringe as the mortals – merely hired workers trying to earn money for their families - lifted what was obviously Imhotep out of the earth.

As Ardeth watched – a woman, called Meela – for all that her likeness was to Anck-su-namun, approached the body. It was obvious to both that she was one of the few reincarnated beings who, with dreams and 'visions' – could remember the past.

Ardeth felt his heart leap when they mentioned having the Book of the Dead – and the Book of the Living. This was far worse then last time Imhotep had been awakened – this time, it wouldn't be by accident – but planned.

They – this woman, Meela, and two men known to the dead surrounding him as Lock-Nah and Baltus Hafez, had plans to return Imhotep to his power – give him the Bracelet of Anubis – and hand him control over an Army. An Army – Ardeth knew from Death's knowledge – belonging to one of those Ancient beings even the Immortals feared - so terrible that it's Army had been swallowed into the Between rather then destroyed and having risked awakening one of the old "Gods".

Lifting his cloak – Ardeth turned with the rest – their tasks done, to leave. He knew, Immortal or not, he could not do this alone.

The Army – and the Scorpion King, had belonged to Anubis – one of those Ancient "Gods". Both had been created to kill Ancient "Gods" – what it could – and would - do to an Immortal – let alone in the Mortal Realm in hands of Imhotep – not even Death could guess.

O.o.O.o.O.o.O

Harry found himself dazedly standing on the Crossroads, he had just seen Death off to the Mortal Realm – Death had sworn to get 'the business' with Imhotep and Anck-su-namun over quickly, so to see Harry home when Eternity and Sirius pulled him back, something Harry still wasn't very clear on just _how_ they were going to do so.

They hadn't volunteered the information – and it seemed to Harry that they didn't expect him to ask.

"How will you and Sirius get me back?" He asked of Eternity, who blinked down at him, quite baffled. "You don't know?" Eternity asked, and Harry shook his head. Eternity sighed and shook her head.

"Ask Anceps or one of the other Guardians…" Eternity told him, and went back to speaking with Sirius about activating the Mirror-Worlds and Watcher of Time simultaneously. Harry, now feeling quite foolish for _not_ knowing, looked to the Guardian winged horse.

 _How will they bring me back?_ He asked mental-voice slightly embarrassed, but it wasn't the Guardian winged horse that answered – it was Anceps, the Guardian hissed softly – drawing Harry's attention to itself, and slid itself off its Arch, coming over to Harry and after crawling over him, settled onto his shoulders – it was surprisingly lighter then Harry had been expecting.

 _When I notify them, they will again activate the Mirror-Worlds and Watcher of Time_. Anceps told him firmly, it was the longest any of the Guardians had spoken to Harry, and he was quite taken aback on how to reply.

"How will you know when I've found whatever that's stirred up the Guardians?" Harry asked aloud, for it seemed more natural to do so

 _I will know_. Anceps assured him, quite certain of this.

 _What if something goes wrong_? Harry asked it, Anceps' tongue flicked out tasting the air.

 _Make sure it does not_. Anceps told him, and Harry began to wonder if this was a good as a plan as it had seemed.

Before he could voice a protest, or point out to Eternity and Sirius that not even Anceps could tell him how it would know he had found out what that 'something wrong' was, he found himself alone.

He opened himself to his newly-formed Immortal powers – seeking to copy what Death had done and Call Eternity and Sirius off until her could get some proper answers – but, instead he felt a ripple of power that grew, like a massive tidal wave in the Crossroads.

He suddenly knew – from the knowledge of the past Immortal Keepers that signaled both Mirror-Worlds and Watcher of Time had been activated – Anceps tightened painfully upon his arm, and Harry felt the other Guardians shriek in alarm, but it was altogether too late – he was gone.

O.o.O.o.O.o.O

 _Get up, Keeper_. Anceps demanded of Harry, who had found himself on the cool grass and hot earth of the ground. It was night, Harry saw, and slowly, he obeyed the Guardian, and stood.

"Where am I?" Harry asked Anceps, who looked very much like a normal snake – one eye green, and the other blue, were the only signs of his still being of two-heads, he was still black, but his body had changed into that of a living creature – although his scales still seemed metallic.

 _At a school, Hogwarts_ …Anceps observed, Harry's eyes widened – seeing for him self that Anceps was right.

"How did the anomaly get -?" Harry began to ask, but was interrupted by a frantic yell for his attention.

"Hey, you, watch out!" _Sirius_? Harry recognized the voice and face from the time he had seen Severus Snape's memories, it was his godfather, as a _teenager_.

Then – there was a howl that chilled his bones, it went up from the Forbidden Forest – and Harry spun around to see two things, one – that the moon was full, and the second, a very big wolf-like form was coming out of the woods.

And headed toward him…


	15. Professor Ivy O'Connell of Ancient Runes

_Previously_ ;

"Hey, you, watch out!" _Sirius_? Harry recognized the voice, and face, from the time he had seen Severus Snape's memories, it was his godfather, as a _teenager_.

Then – there was a howl that chilled his bones, it went up from the Forbidden Forest – and Harry spun around to see two things, one – that the moon was full, and the second, a very big wolf-like form was coming out of the woods.

And headed toward him…

O.o.O.o.O.o.O

Harry stood wide-eyed, unable to take his eyes off the werewolf moving freely under the full moon, running easily over grounds of Hogwarts - toward him. Harry's heart twisted, wanting all at once to run with the werewolf, yet his body frozen with the fear that Remus would disappear if he moved or looked away from him for a moment.

 _Move boy!_ Anceps mentally urged - loudly, and tightening his body around Harry's wrist painfully. Harry's breath caught in his throat – to see Remus alive. Duel images of Remus wavered in his sight, of this young werewolf – _attacking_!, his mind pushed, Harry pushed it away absently – caught in horrid fascination of his last memory of Remus.

Lucius Malfoy's cane had shifted into a silver sword; hovering above Harry's chest – shouting to Draco – who Harry knew to be fighting another Death-Eater, " _This is what happens to Half-bloods_!", for, Harry remembered Draco dismissing Pansy in favor of another – unknown, Half-blood.

The sliver sword with a snake handle plunges down – and then with a rush of fur and snarling teeth, Moony got in the way – laying his body over Harry's to save him. Harry had seen Lucius jerk away – and then Draco had yelled, and Harry had caught a glimpse of the Death-Eater closing in on him; Moony had, with the silver in his side, managed to crawl off Harry – beaten and bloody, the werewolf had shifted into Remus – dieing with his last breath as a man.

" _Pity the miserable beast didn't join me. Are you ready to die, Potter_?" Voldemort had come to gloat, and Harry had been so full of hurt and rage, he hadn't cared about Hermionie's warning; _("Please Harry, don't chose to die – you're all the Wizarding World has left as a leader."_ ) they would have to settle for Draco – who Harry had faith to do the right thing, or someone else would immerge, because Harry was tired of fighting Voldemort – living at the cost of his friends.

Harry had griped his ward – twin to Voldemort's, and laughing Voldemort had raised his and shot off a killing spell – and Harry had mindlessly shot off one of his own; the wands had locked for a second time – and as Hermione had warned, it was not like the first time.

The second time, they both had died. Or Voldemort had …Harry hoped. Harry gasped, blinking from the memory, and finding himself moments from being up close and personal with Moony's teeth and claws.

" _No_!" James, moments from seeing one of his best friends ripping open an unknown stranger, yelled, coming out of the Whomping Willow from behind Sirius, and, not caring if Harry saw or didn't see he shifted into a stag. The stag, Harry was enchanted to see, pranced in-between Harry and Moony, leading the werewolf away – back into the forest.

"You _fool_ what were you thinking?" Sirius growled, acting very much like his Animagis self as he stalked to Harry, rage – and from it fear, and relief, that he was walking up to something _living_ and not torn to pieces, in his every step.

 _Agreed_. Anceps mentally hissed, annoyed at his charge – and rising from around Harry's shoulder, looking at a newly-alarmed Sirius.

"Oh, Gods – look at the _size_ of that snake! No wonder you didn't move – hold on, I'll…." Sirius, abashed at having started insulting someone who now had a clear reason for not moving when a werewolf was going to attack him, brought out his wand. Sirius was just as shocked when the snake – sensing his intentions, took the wand from his fingers.

"Don't bother. Anceps wasn't going to hurt me." _Rather I'd likely change into something to strangle that damned wolf_. Anceps hissed mentally, his tongue flicking onto the wood- tasting the wand. Harry brushed hair from his eyes, 'accidentally' flicking Anceps on the nose to hush him – earning him a rather 'glared' mental silence.

"I was…well, lost in memories I suppose you could say." Harry told him, smiling – if rather grimly, at the younger version of his godfather. Sirius looked at him again, frowning, eyes flicking over the stranger – then to the snake with _his_ wand in its mouth.

"You're too old for school, what are you doing out here anyway?" Sirius questioned – it was then another boy slid from the Whomping Willow, Harry tensed, and avoided looking at him, in favor of coming up with a quick answer to Sirius' questions.

 _He'll also ask your name, Keeper_. Anceps told him shortly, mentally sneering.

 _Remind me to introduce you to Severus Snape_. _("Harry Snape? Rick Potter? Jonathan Black? Neville Longbottom?")_ Harry returned, smiling absently at Sirius while he thought frantically for a name – and a reason from being over age _and_ on Hogwarts grounds.

 _You'll do no such thing, Keeper. Nor will you use any name they are familiar with – if one were to speak of you in the future; yourself before being an Immortal would be curious._ Anceps mentally lectured, and Harry mentally searched for something that would be easy to remember – yet not connected to Hogwarts.

 _I can only think of Rick and Evie_! Harry told him, somewhat alarmed.

 _Ivy O'Connell, Runes Professor_? Anceps suggested – without a thought, Harry echoed it.

"Ivy O'Connell, Runes Professor." Sirius raised an eyebrow, his lip twitching with suppressed laughter at the older teenagers rather girly name.

"Sirius Black, student." Sirius told him, smirking at him.

 _I'm going to **kill** you_. Harry told a snickering Anceps, while smiling 'obviously' at Sirius.

"So, Black, who was your friend I just saw a little while ago?" Harry asked him, distracting the dark haired boy, who stuttered out an answer of some kind – while Peter rolled his eyes. Upon seeing Harry looking at him, he mouthed his name "Peter Pettigrew". _Wormtail_. Harry kept a blank mask on his face, nodding to the ratty boy.

 _Do not think of him as such, Keeper, he is not yet a betrayer. Think of him as Peter, the boy looks nothing like your Wormtail yet_. Anceps told him, seeing his look at the other boy.

 _How am I going to be the Runes Professor, Anceps, if there already is one – and, more importantly, how will "Ivy O'Connell" fit into the Magical Worlds records as a teacher_? Harry was quick to point out the flaws of his shattering identity.

 _One would think you knew nothing about being Immortal. Will it so, and it shall be. Besides, I'd think you'd ask the more important question and inquire to how you are going to learn Wizarding Runes in less then a day_ … Anceps purred – if a snake could do so, delighting in Harry's near panic – then quick relief, sure that Anceps had that answer as well.

"Oh – um, him? How much did you see Professor?" Sirius finally settled on asking after Peter had caught his eye.

"Oh, not much at all, _certainly_ not an illegal act. Likely it was just a stag meeting his werewolf _friend_. Whatever I saw will be forgotten by the morning, I haven't a very keen memory, you understand." The two boys glanced between each other – each finding that answer very much like Dumbledore's, and Harry looked to the forest, shook his head – and turned his back to it – facing Hogwarts.

"Well, as you are out of school – and after lights out, care to guild me to Hogwarts? I have a meeting with the Headmaster." Harry continued, and the two were happy to do so – if only to get their newly acquired and seemingly near-death accident-prone "Professor" away from the Forbidden Forest.

O.o.O.o.O.o.O

Harry wasn't sure how his Immortal powers would work on Dumbledore, but when he showed up at the Headmaster's entranceway (after sending Sirius and Peter to Gryffindor Tower) the goblin statue guarding it jumped aside, and the secret entrance was revealed without him having to say a word – so, obviously, "Ivy O'Connell", was expected.

Harry spared a glance for the moving portraits, then the door to Dumbledore's office sprung open, and Harry let himself in.

"Ah, Ivy O'Connell, is it?" Dumbledore greeted him with a warm smile, Harry nodded, opening his mouth to say something – but Dumbledore gestured to the seat on the other side of this desk.

"Please, do be seated. Now, let's get down to business, shall we?" Dumbledore paused long enough to thrust a tea at him – hard enough that Harry had to expose his left arm, and Harry let Dumbledore believe that "Ivy" did not think it had not been in search of a Dark Mark.

"I'm terribly sorry! I didn't spill any on you did I?" Harry shook his head, a blush crossing his features, of fury or embarrassment; he didn't let it be known. Dumbledore – even after doing such a thing, merely smiled in a grandfatherly-way.

"No? Very good! Well, as you must know, as any studier of Ancient Runes would, that there are times the magic in them leads them away for a time - this is all well and good, but my students can not be left to learn the Runes on their own. This is way I'm so glad you've decided to become a Professor here." Dumbledore prattled on, his eyes wandering his room – full of silver knickknacks, Harry knew to be mostly made up of detectors to sense the Dark Magic and 'harm' a person meant to others. Harry let Dumbledore think he only saw the wondering mans blue eyes as a symptom of old age, smiling like a simpleton.

"Now, do tell me what got you interested in Runes in the first place, they can be very Dark things if used improperly." Dumbledore asked him, the twinkle in his eyes lessoning as he focused on Harry.

"That is not at all how it began Headmaster, I assure you; I became interested in Runes because of Anceps here." Harry told him quite amiably, upon hearing his name, Anceps – in the form of a metallic snake with one blue and one green eye, tucked his head out from Harry's robe. Harry was pleased to see he'd added a rune to his snake disguise, one that Sirius might, upon seeing it at breakfast might excuse away as it being too dark to see.

"Oh! An animation rune, how interesting – wherever did you find him?" Dumbledore asked, slightly suspicious of a snake-like creature made of 'rune magic'. " _Nosey old man, treating me and my Keeper this way"_ Anceps hissed aloud… Harry smiled, wrapping his fingers around the Guardian, and gently bringing it down to his lap, tapping his fingers along its sides warningly.

"My predecessor gave him to me; you might call him an ancestry gift." Harry noticed Dumbledore's eyes flick to the silver device Harry knew to be a truthsayer, and Harry knew he would be baffled – for Harry had told the truth; the Keeper before him had left him the Guardians and the Arches.

"I see… does he do anything dangerous?" Dumbledore asked, and Harry blinked at him – as if innocently puzzled.

"Oh, he protects me," Harry told him, while he reached in his robes for Sirius' wand bringing it in sight of Dumbledore, "for instance, he thought – for some reason, that one of the boys I encountered tonight was dangerous, and so he had his wand taken away. If I'm not staying tonight, would you mind returning it to a Sirius Black?" Harry asked carefully observing Dumbledore's expressions. Harry had to admit, the man was a very good actor. Not even letting a hint that a werewolf had been wandering the school grounds on the full moon.

"I'm sure you can return it to him this morning, Professor O'Connell. Please, do follow Professor McGonagall for a tour. Classes for Ancient Runes begin tomorrow, so I do hope you have everything in order." Dumbledore told him, smiling, half-moon spectacles flashing as they tilted with a nod.

"It's a pleasure to be working at Hogwarts, Headmaster – I'm sure I'll enjoy it." Harry assured him, standing and making his way out of the Headmaster's office. In the hall once more – he met a much younger looking McGonagall, it served to bring home to Harry he was, indeed, back in time.

Swallowing down his reactions, he greeted her with a smile – one which she returned, and then asked him to follow her and with a "do remember everything once, please" they left on a somewhat short tour. From the Headmasters Office to the Staff Rooms, and then to the Ancient Runes classroom, which had previously met in the courtyard, and in bad weather the open Gothic-an-Greek style veranda around the courtyard.

Ending with Harry finding his quarters would be in the same hall that led the not-so-secret hidden entrance to the kitchens. There were good and bad points with this – if he over slept and needed to eat quickly – the House Elves were right at work in the kitchens at the end of the hall.

Second, a bad point, it seemed fate had served to make it hard for him to avoid his father and the rest of the Marauders as he had planned to do; as he had heard in his school days that his father had visited the school kitchens.


	16. Of First Days And Nightmares

In the darkest hour in the night, a "dead" seed of the Immortal known as Chaos slipped through the Between - and into a mortal boy. It could, alike to any seed, grow into its former glory given the right circumstances – as it sensed the presence of another Immortal and pulsed with new life.

Somewhere in Hogwarts, the boy who played host to the seed stirred, only to turn over in his sleep. Moonlight glinted off unkempt hair.

O.o.O.o.O.o.O

At the Head Table there were their usual Professors – with one empty seat beside Headmaster Dumbledore – who looked unperturbed at the lateness of one of his Professor's on their first day of work; Professor McGonagall, however, who sat on Dumbledore's other side, glanced at the entrance to the Great Hall, her lips pressed together with obvious annoyance.

Headmaster Dumbledore had already made the announcement of a new Ancient Runes Professor – but said Professor wasn't in attendance – which sent the whole of the student body whispering – including the Marauders.

Professors – especially new ones, were, after all supposed to set a good example for the students – not join them in being tardy.

"I wonder where that man we met last night –" Sirius began, as James looked over the Great Hall, hazel eyes searching for the very man Sirius spoke of.

"Professor Ivy O'Connell." Peter corrected Sirius at a soft mumble – barely louder then a whisper, as he was biting into his grilled cheese to avoid Sirius' sharp glance.

"Yes, yes, _Professor O'Connell_ ," Sirius grumbled out, "wondered off to. He must have quarters in the school. Do you think Moony could track him?" Sirius continued, and James looked at him then – a dark eyebrow raised.

Sirius sighed, leaning his head and cheek against his best friend's shoulder, a pout on his lush lips, unaware – or perhaps, uncaring, of how his actions affected those outside his circle of friends. Sirius Black was certainly lovely to behold - but he did not seem to notice.

James only laughed at Sirius' antics, filling the Great Hall with his laugh - a grin on his own lips as he glanced to Peter.

"What do you think Peter? Think we can seduce Remus to the idea?" James asked him, Peter shook his head, nervous to have the twos attention so focused on him. He could only think of the way "Ivy O'Connell" had looked at him – with such bleakness, as if Peter had wronged him with his mere presence.

 _Why should you care what_ he _thinks of you_? A voice seemed to whisper in his mind – though he knew it only to be his own thought.

"He's right Padfoot – Moony won't go for it, especially not after last night. He was nervous enough of what had nearly happened." James whispered, so that no one other then Sirius and Peter would hear.

Sirius' sighed, slightly disappointed – but not overly much, he wouldn't transform into the black grim and look – because that would be a risk getting caught doing an illegal Animagi transformation.

"Well, perhaps you should just ask him where his quarters are. We do have his class next." Lily told them while passing out their schedules for the week. Sirius and James shared equally mischievous grins.

O.o.O.o.O.o.O

Harry Potter – now under the name sake "Ivy O'Connell" – had an entire lifetime of work into runes shoved into his mind overnight. To say it wasn't a pleasant experience might have gotten you an unpleasant afterlife.

Immortals didn't, technically, _need_ sleep – that didn't stop Harry from wishing he had gotten some. Alas – Anceps had forced him to stay awake all night to better "adsorb" the knowledge of runes – by the time morning came, his mind felt acutely of a jumble of bells and chains- or approaching thunder.

Harry didn't really want to dwell on it – all that mattered to him was that he had the information – and had "absorbed" enough of it to know what he was talking about until he "spilled" the knowledge – like Anceps said he could. His mind felt all too much like a well used sponge.

Three sharp raps on the door later, and Harry realized the sound was coming from outside his head – which was a relief for it was annoying, and as it wasn't somewhere he couldn't go – he _could_ stop it.

Stopping it, however, involved getting up and walking to the door to open it. This was something Harry didn't really want to do. Because – as it was morning, it meant someone had come to summon him to teach – or to eat. He was dwelling on the later.

" _Answer the damned door or I_ will _bite you_." Anceps hissed – his tongue flicking on Harry's cheek, not in the best of moods – with a long suffering sigh, Harry obeyed, rising put of the bed to open the door to what was beginning to look like the longest day in his life.

A stern McGonagall looked down on him. Harry realized – for the first time, that he was indeed – even as an adult _shorter_ then McGonagall. In fact – Harry had the uncanny impression that some of the _students_ would be taller then him.

" _Professor_ O'Connell," the way she said his name, he _knew_ she was upset at having to "wake" him, "you've missed the morning meal – I trust you won't miss your first class as well?" McGonagall eyes were narrowed on him – and Harry had the suspicion that she already doubted Dumbledore's wisdom in letting him teach.

"Of course not – _um_ – let me just grab my familiar." Harry ducked back into his quarters to grab Anceps, who had been wrapped in the blankets and was very perturbed to be displaced onto Harry's shoulders, he made sure to squeeze Harry's neck slightly – just so the young Immortal would know of his displeasure.

Harry found himself walking into a room filled with adolescent Wizard and Witches – their house insignias showing Gryffindor and Slytherin – having been in such joint classes in his youth, he knew his first class was going to be anything but boring.

Harry stood in front of them – some of them looked interested in him (the Slytherin students – and among them Severus Snape - seemed particularly interested in Anceps) – and some looked bored (the sleepy looking Gryffindor looked like she would fall asleep at her desk) and others – amused (the Marauders especially); somewhat awkwardly he cleared his throat, nervously stroking Anceps' smooth scales as he considered what he was going to say.

"How'd you sleep, Professor O'Connell?" Sirius asked him with a small leer, breaking the ice – Harry chuckled, and the students followed.

"Actually…I haven't," some looked sympathetic – and some, like Lily, looked about to suggest he go to the Nurse for a potion, "sadly sleeping potions – when taken too often, can become addicting – long ago, I reached my limit for my lifetime." It was true – when he had been mortal – but, as an Immortal, he just didn't know the risks, and thought better to not chance it.

Severus, Harry noticed, looked shocked at this; Harry wasn't surprised – only he would have the early interest in Potions to know how much one had to take of that potion to risk side effects so young in life.

"This, also, brings up an interesting thought. Nightmares – how many of you know the Magical Creatures version?" Harry asked the class – Severus and Lily raised their hands, Harry was reminded oddly of Hermione.

" _Erm_ – you, the young man." Harry nodded to him, and Severus – for a moment – looked surprised. Obviously, the teachers favored asking Lily to answer a question rather then him.

"Severus Snape, sir. A Nightmare feeds off the emotions you produce in dreams – good or bad, producing negative effects in the Witch or Wizard it fed off of." Severus' tone gave away nothing of his surprise, but Harry nodded – it was the correct answer, though a scientific one.

Some of the students looked to be wondering what the heck a Magical Creature had to do with Runes. They, as he had thought, had just been taught to memorize and copy them – knowing nothing of the history or _how's_ and _whys_ of them. Half the reason to learn runes – Harry knew, was to know the history and how they could be applied.

"Very good, Mr. Snape," _now this would be **perfectly** awkward if I ever see him as a adult again_ …Harry mused, his lips quirking slightly as he continued, "– now, Nightmares are a very ancient creature –yet, they rarely plague us any more. Does anyone know _why not_?" Harry asked some enthusiasm lightening his tone.

"They find muggles tastier?" A burly Slytherin near the back sneered, and Harry ignored him – his gaze lingering on the class. It was clear they did not know.

"No, actually – muggles are something they avoid if there is a Wizard or Witch near at hand. A few years in the future, we will very likely declare Nightmares extinct – the reason being that if you place a certain rune on your floor – they are trapped until they die. Does anyone know the nature of this rune?" Harry asked, turning – for the first time, to the board, pretending to ignore the hushed whispers that erupted behind his back as they conferred with one another.

"The one that looks like an 'F' – the strait line with two diagonal slashes across it?" Surprisingly –that was right, Harry's lips quirked in amusement as he drew the symbol on the board.

It was good; he knew that they knew what the symbol looked like – now if only they knew what it _did_.

"And this runes _nature_?" Harry stressed, glancing over his shoulder to see that, surprisingly – only Sirius Black had his hand up. Only other Slytherin students – mostly pure bloods, would know of its 'nature' – they looked to the side, as if they didn't want to admit what it was – as if by ignoring it, it would go away.

Harry knew, then, that even if he had wanted to – it was too late to change fate. The Wizarding World's new generation were dismissive of things they did not want to see – though, that too was in human nature.

"Mr. Black, if you would enlighten us." Harry asked, his green eyes locking with the fathomless gray of his future godfather.

"A rune in itself is not good or bad. The intent behind it is the key factor. That rune," Sirius nodded to the symbol on the board, his expression solemn, and his gaze far-off, as if seeing something the others couldn't see, "has a history of being used by Dark Lords. In that form - it drains life force. In the other it restores it." Sirius sighed softly, glancing to the aside, and flinching for doing what the other Dark pure bloods were doing.

"Correct. To a Nightmare, life-force – flesh, blood, soul – whatever you define as life – is a poison to a Nightmare – which only needs emotion and magic." Harry finished with a soft sigh – some of the students shifted uncomfortably. They were young – no matter that they were Seventh years.

"Your homework is to identify three common runes – and research the good and bad intents Wizards and Witches have used them for over the years." Harry asked them, glancing to the side at Anceps, who was sunbathing on his shoulder.

 _You've done well for your first class, Keeper_. Anceps' voice within his mind soothed him, and Harry – with the sound of the bell to dismiss class, allowed himself to relax. The younger years in the next classes were below Fifth Year. He knew it wouldn't be so hard – _surely_ , for he wouldn't need to focus so much on the dark world they were going into.


	17. Where Immortal Death Walks In Shadow

Ardeth, upon leaving the dig in Hamunaptra, knew two things - that the Bracelet of Anubis was "missing" – and according to several tomb robbers – it was on its way to England - that was bad enough - he had disliked the idea of leaving behind the warm desert in favor of the cold English streets. All the signs led him to think he had to get to Rick and Evelyn as fast as humanly – or rather, as _Immortally_ possible.

What he hadn't known was that Immortals…traveled by _shadows_.

To top it off, Ardeth had had only the impression – the "feeling" of who someone was – to lead him in the shadow traveling. So he had had to think only of them – not of Harry – not of being a true Immortal – only of Rick and Evelyn. He was sure he'd find them together.

This had led him to where was now - in a bedroom, in an inn, staring into an empty shadowed closet rather doubtfully.

 _Well_ , he supposed while looking into the darkness, _I won't be able to die from this._

Inhaling, he gathered every bit of his courage - not dwelling on why he could face scarabs, mummies, and cursed cities without flinching – but this made his skin _crawl_ – he stepped boldly into the darkness. It felt like being swallowed whole by a giant – there were no visible teeth – but the fear of being chewed up and spit out not exactly whole was there – instantly tugging at the back of his mind.

Wind whipped around him – at first it was a fierce hot wind – like the desert, then it cooled to the icy gusts of wind that he had expensed once upon the shores – then the wind became 'tame' barely bothering him. All around him was shadows and darkness – and though it seemed impossible, there were different 'shades' of darkness.

Then he found himself stepping _out_ of the darkness - and it was – "felt" like England. He knew – if given a choice - he wouldn't be doing this "shadow walking" again anytime soon.

All that reasoning served to do – was amuse the part of him that was Death incarnate.

He didn't dwell on the "whys" of his Immortal amusement.

Ardeth found Evelyn soon enough - with a little boy who "felt" like a mix of her and Rick – but he knew, by sensing for "impressions" that they – and Jonathan, were all in the same home.

As were at least a dozen others that did not belong in the O'Connell home...

To say he was disturbed would be an understatement. But – at least – he got his 'balance' back rather quickly – and right on time, for, like Harry – trouble had a way of finding him.

"Think it's time to yell for dad now." The boy, from behind his mother, declared upon seeing the half-dozen men that had seemingly materialized from behind Lock-Nah. "Now I will kill you and take it anyway." Lock-Nah murmured - his dark gaze narrowed on Evelyn and her son.

"I think not." Ardeth dared reply, striding into the room he had gotten only a glimpse of, only to be somewhat amused that he was greeted to the sound of swords being unsheathed. Ardeth let a small smile cross his lips – they were so _very_ worried about him, but they would be all the more fearful if they know who he was in whole.

"Ardeth," Evelyn whispered – her tone strained with worry, her eyes questioning, even as her expression was a mixed bit of grateful and shocked, "what are you doing here?" She asked, her curiosity getting the better of her. For a moment Ardeth seemed not to hear her – his gaze and focus on Lock-Nah.

"Perhaps explanations are best kept for later." Ardeth finally answered, she had seemed to realize that in the current time-and-place it was not the time to stop and chat. Especially with the "bad guys" so near at hand – to reveal his reasons was to be careless _and_ arrogant –Ardeth was neither.

"Ardeth Bay." Lock-Nah hissed, and Ardeth felt himself frozen to where he stood – this man – _should not know his name_.

"Lock-Nah." Ardeth returned – the other looked as if he _expected_ to be greeted by his name. This did not bid well with Death – or Ardeth. They stood staring – hearing the yelling from above, even as Rick and Jonathan fought Meela, and whoever else was up there.

Then – unexpectedly, Lock-Nah yelled – and his men attacked. Ardeth found himself attacking three at once, his steps controlled – forcing his body to rely on what muscle-memory it had of using the sword he had had strapped to his back.

He saw out of the corner of his eye that the others had gone toward Evelyn and the boy, both who were creeping away. Evelyn – seeing that the men were still coming, got a sword from a wall "decoration"- likely put up by Rick for just such a event as this – seeing that she was holding her own – and the boy was staying out of sight – Ardeth brought his mind back to the fight.

Two of the three men were left – the other having gotten clumsy and allowed Ardeth close enough to kill. All the while Lock-Nah watched him – studying his moves, measuring his skills – and his weaknesses. All so he could better take advantage when he struck – Ardeth was sure he would, it was only a matter of time.

Briefly, and distantly – Ardeth heard the boy exclaim when he heard the thick sound of a sword driven into thick wood ("Wow, mom, when did you learn _that_?" – and her reply - "I have no idea..."). Ardeth turned – slashing one of the two thugs – a non-vital injury, but Death swooped in, pulling the mans soul out of his body with his lifeblood spilt. He saw what the boy had meant - Evelyn had driven the sword of her adversary into the thick wood of the book case – impressive.

Seeing a man wrestle the little boy for a box – he could help but yell the question on his mind – and hope he was mistaken.

"What's in the box?" Evelyn grunted – having a little trouble with another goon.

"Bracelet of Anubis." Evelyn hissed out – stunning him – he _hated_ being right in such times like these. His pause cost him the advantage he had held – the men surrounding him slashing at him savagely – all to be barely blocked by his own sword.

Ardeth felt ill when he saw that Evelyn had dropped her sword, a thug had grabbed her by the throat – shoving her into a wall in an attempt to kill her. He was still trying desperately to get to her – when, suddenly, she attacked – kneeing him in the groin and lashing out to hit him across the face with a right hook – proudly proclaiming that _that_ she had learned from the boy's father. Still – he knew that both were closer to the exit then he was.

"They must not get the bracelet," Ardeth grunted – shoving the attacking man away with his sword– "get it, and get out of here." He ordered as he turned - relieved that both were alright – then swinging around to complete a clean upper thrust. He thug gasped – a dying breath. He hoped Evelyn forgave him the blood on her carpet.

When at last he got a break – as he heard, distantly, more men enter – all to keep him away from the box – and Evelyn and her boy away from the door.

"Not bad, for a Ma-jei." Lock-Nah purred, smirking – a challenge dancing in his eyes. Ardeth had little choice – for if he did not fight Lock-Nah, Lock-Nah would go after the boy and Evelyn. Ardeth– even knowing the man _knew_ all of his weaknesses, and was not nearly as weary as he was - and would take joy in beating him – even knowing it for a distraction, Ardeth fought – getting thrashed in the possess.

He heard a bookcase crash, and Ardeth had glimpsed the boy beside it – Evelyn's fight with the others had finished, giving her a brief pause. Then everything went _horribly_ wrong.

"Mom, look out!" He heard the boy yell – he turned, only to see Evelyn knocked fiercely upon the back of her head. "Evelyn!" Ardeth yelled wanting to go foreword even as she was swept up and stolen away, over the shoulder of the thug. Lock-Nah hit him – hard, across the back, forcing him to his knees – forcing him to watch as Ardeth realized he had failed –Lock-Nah was getting away, and with Evelyn – who would surely be dead by morning – and with the box with the Bracket of Anubis inside.

Ardeth struggled to his feet – a blade was coming at him – Ardeth used his Immortal abilities – causing it to tilt _just so_ it's aim off - it wouldn't hit him. Lock-Nah looked down at him knowingly – but Ardeth had no time to dwell on that. The boy was alone – unprotected.

The boy, his eyes filled with worry for Ardeth, came to his side – just in time – for Ardeth pulled him to the floor, holding him to his chest – Ardeth's own back protecting him as the hail of bullets came thundering into the boy's home.

The boys eyes were locked on his own – Ardeth realized the boy expected Ardeth to die – or both of them to. No wonder – shot had landed all around them, digging into the furniture.

Ardeth didn't bother to explain when the bullets ceased – he wouldn't have had the chance to – the boy jerked away from him, and – upon having heard his father yelling for his mother – ran outside.

Fearing the worst, Ardeth followed at the boys heels. Evelyn was no where within sight; and Ardeth felt his stomach twist in his throat. He bowed his head to Rick – Ardeth's eyes slipping to the ground – the ultimate show of trust among the Ma-jei – as Rick knew well.

"O'Connell." Ardeth whispered – all his feeling of sorrow at his failed attempt to protect Evelyn and Rick's son in it – Ardeth glanced up - meeting the other mans anguished eyes. Rick snarled – his upper lip curling in his fury - at him, having found himself unable to speak.

Rick swooped in and grabbed him by the robes – shoving him against the stone pillar. Ardeth knew Rick was afraid – knew as well, that he had to feel some control – even if it was violence.

"What the hell are you doing here? – No, scratch that – I don't care. Who are those guys and where have they taken my wife?" Rick growled at him - Ardeth made no sound of pain, even as the larger mans weight pressed against him painfully. Ardeth looked to see the boy near Jonathan – his eyes frightened – and Jonathan himself looked undecided to what to do. Rick had always been their rock – their center in reality – and now Rick was crumbling in the light of his wife's kidnapping.

Ardeth _knew_ he had to end this soon.

"My friend – I am not sure." Rick let him go - looking so utterly hopeless and frustrated – that Ardeth quickly continued. "But – wherever this man is, your wife will surely be." Ardeth showed them a picture of Baltus Hafez – the only man he had confirmed connections with in England. The _only_ man among the men Meela had surround herself with, who could afford to house all of Meela's followers - the hired "help" - and Imhotep himself.

Rick's son roughly took the picture that had been held loosely in his hands – pointing to its occupant.

"Hey, I know him. He's the curator. He works at the British Museum." The boy exclaimed – pleased with himself at knowing something the grown ups had not. Rick had looked up, glancing at the picture, nodding – and Ardeth was pleased to see a new hope – and a glint of determination was still kindled within the other mans eyes.

"Are you sure?" Ardeth found himself asking the boy, who still looked skittish after witnessing Ardeth's supernatural ability to survive.

"You better believe him – he spends more time there then he does at home." Rick told him – both amused and proud of his son's accomplishments. Rick moved toward his car – motioning for them to follow – Jonathan did so; the boy followed his father and uncle – forcing Ardeth to come along with them or be left behind.

"Okay – you're here, the bad guys are here – Evy's been kidnapped. Let me guess…" Rick began his words teasing – though his tone was not, his tone both sarcastic and serious at the same time.

"Yes – they once again removed the creature from his gave." Ardeth told them, noticing that the boy was once again watching him. His parents had likely thought him too young to be told how their parents had met – in danger for their very lives, danger thick around them as a creature that had been dead for millennia awoke. Ardeth – and Death, knew it was not the sort of bed time story Evy would want for her child. It was a shame though – that the boy would be unprepared for what he was likely to see.

"I don't mean to point fingers, but isn't it your job to make sure that _doesn't_ happen?" Jonathan said – his voice not yet calmed from the fright that had occurred just a few moments ago.

"The woman that was with them," Ardeth began – knowing they wouldn't think how he had known that as he hadn't laid eyes on her at the house – merely knowing she was their by her impression, "she knows things – things that no living person could possibly know, she knew exactly where the creature was buried." Ardeth paused, grimacing when he caught sight of himself in the glass of the car. He looked like Death with his black robes and the silver linings – the shadow walking had revealed his true nature – he was just glad they didn't know it.

"We were hoping she would lead us to the bracelet – she obviously did. Now they have it." The first part was a lie – but he was still bitter about the second being true. The boy paused, fidgeting nervously in front of his father.

"I wouldn't get too nervous just yet." He said as he lifted his sleeve – the bracelet, golden and heavy, sat on his wrist – taunting Ardeth. Ardeth bit his lip, looking down at it – it was in the form of a scorpion's body – with jackal's head – a thing that could kill an Immortal rested on the wrist of a boy.

"Is that gold?" Jonathan asked – his tone hopeful.

"When I stuck it on – I saw the pyramids of Giza – then _whoosh_ strait across to Karnak." The child explained this – so eager to be helpful and grown up; how would Ardeth begin to tell the boy that he had only seven days to live if they did not reach Ahm Shere in time?

Ardeth's nails pressed into his palm - he had to frighten the boy – had to get him to go along with what they told him.

"By putting this on, you have started a chain reaction that could bring about the next apocalypse." Ardeth told him – his voice and face dire – the boy gasped – his eyes widening and lips opening in a 'o' of surprise. Perhaps the boy had thought it a neat trick before – now he would know it was dangerous. Rick was quick to put a stop to any plans he might have had to frighten the boy further – Rick was quick to get them into the car and soon they were on the way to the museum.

"I am sorry if I alarmed your son. But you must understand, now that the bracelet is on his wrist, we have only seven days before the Scorpion King awakens." Ardeth told him in a soft tone so that the boy would not hear.

"We – what we?" Rick grumbled, fingers digging into the steering wheel – Ardeth knew the man blamed him in part for what had happened tonight – but he had to understand – otherwise there would be little hope but to spell it out for him.

"If he is not killed – he will raise the Army of Anubis." Ardeth hissed between clenched teeth – a little more loudly then he wanted.

"I take it that's not a good thing?" Jonathan asked form the back of the seat, leaning foreword now that he had made it obvious he was listening in.

"Oh – he'll wipe out the world." Rick bit out, upset – having remembered what his wife had told him before her kidnapping.

"Ah, the old "Wipe-Out-The-World" ploy." Jonathan said jokingly – it was for the boys benefit - for he cracked a grin upon hearing it – thinking that, perhaps, things were not as dire as Ardeth led him to think.

"Whomever can kill the Scorpion King can send his army back to the underworld, or use it to destroy mankind and rule the earth." Ardeth said instead – Jonathan sat back, a little more pale.

"So that's why they dug up Imhotep, 'cause he's the only guy tough enough to take out the Scorpion King." Rick assumed, and Ardeth nodded – though that was not exactly true.

"That is their plan." Ardeth said as Rick parked the car – it was their plan – but it would not work. No _mortal_ could kill the Scorpion King. As Rick spoke to his son and Jonathan – and Ardeth learned the boys name to be Alex – Ardeth closed his eyes – feeling the power and magic around him.

There was something wrong – Ardeth inhaled, using his Immortal abilities – someone was casting a spell form the Book of the Dead – a dark spell, and one Ardeth had not sensed the likes of since the creation of the Immortal called Chaos.

It called for the life blood of a person – or people – to give the spells target, usually a dead or cursed person, to walk with Immortal powers for seven days. If the target person managed to kill an Immortal – he or she would stay Immortal. The reason Ardeth – and Death – had thought it gone forever – was that it weakened _all_ the Immortals – for the spell fed on their powers to keep the target alive.

Ardeth, as the closest Immortal – knew he would suffer the worst of the affects. It would steal his powers – he would not be able to do many "big" things – and no small ones at all, for fear that if he did - it would take more of him then he was willing to give. In short – Ardeth was little better then a mortal.

Slightly dizzy – Ardeth climbed out of the car, going to the trunk – not truly surprised to see the weapons loaded in a secret compartment.

"You want the shotgun?" Rick asked, turning slightly to better see Ardeth.

"No, I prefer the Thompson." Ardeth admitted – Rick turned to hand him the gun and if he had noticed anything wrong – he said nothing.

Neither did Ardeth, though he was – however – very surprised to see the tattoo on Rick's wrist. Hoping he was right, Ardeth began the phrase.

"If I were to say to you that, "I am a stranger traveling from the East, seeking that which is lost…"

"Then I would reply that, "I am a stranger traveling from the West, it is I whom you seek." Rick answered surprised eyes landing on Ardeth who smiled slightly, warmly.

"Then it is true. You have the sacred mark." Ardeth whispered, pleased – for it meant that even if he died – Rick could – in theory, kill the Scorpion King. Those who had the sacred marking – that of the Ma-jei, were more then mortal – they were the "between" of Immortal and man.

"What, that?" Rick nodded to his wrist – his expression somewhat amused. "No, that got slapped on me when I was in an orphanage in Cairo." Rick explained, Ardeth placed his hand on his shoulder.

"That mark means you are a protector of man. A warrior for God. A Ma-jei." Ardeth claimed - looking him in the eye silently urging Rick to believe that what Ardeth told him was truth.

"I'm sorry. You've got the wrong guy." Rick murmured softly – regretting that he had to claim what he perceived to be the truth and deny what he thought Ardeth wanted him to believe in to give them false hope.

Ardeth sighed, following Rick – even as he felt the heaviness of the spell lap at his power – eating at it, like the ocean waves did to the beaches and cliffs – only the "eating" would take less time then the tide.


	18. Saving One – Losing One…

Walking into that museum - even with Rick beside him - was a lot like walking through an unseen spider web. He knew it wasn't a spider web; for all that it was still a trap. The darkness of it clung to him – and left him with a generally unclean feeling. He moved carefully, keeping Rick a little behind him until he was sure it was safe.

None the less, it caught him off guard when the mummy, which had been motionless with ages of nothing but death and sand locked within its gaze, took just moments before springing up with sudden life. Worse, Rick was in its way – true, it was quite incapable of fine movements but if it was determined enough it could kill him.

Before it could figure this out for itself, Ardeth had moved – getting between Rick and it was easy enough, as was shoving his thigh-sword into its gut. Listening to it 'die' again – was the hard part - it keened softly, a wail of despair and pain lost to time – but fell dead all the same.

This, Ardeth knew – could only be the start of what he knew to be the spell to raise Imhotep up from the Realm of Death. It bothered him that the power was spilling over so much – raising mummies was delicate work, and raising them without a purpose other then their free will was nearly impossible. That all these mummies were reacting to one spell told of its power – Ardeth, even in all his years as Death, had never seen the like of it.

It did serve to do one thing Ardeth was grateful for, after the bumbling 'attack' – Rick was a lot more willing to follow his lead. For all around them, with his Immortal abilities –muted as they were - he _still_ had an 'empathy' with death, so he felt the mummies, once on display, stirring with new – if unnatural- life.

The feeling of unease only got worse for Ardeth as they reached the balcony overlooking where the ceremony taking place. With the final phrase Ardeth felt as if someone had buried him up to his neck in sand the pressure in his chest was so great.

Rick spoke as they turned away, but Ardeth did not hear it as he caught his breath – Rick signaled that Ardeth was to stay where he was while Rick went on – Ardeth merely nodded, agreeing – in his mind, _anything_ that kept him away from Imhotep was a good thing.

Ardeth watched on, breathless with the magic that swam unseen around him, leeching off him. It occurred to him then, briefly, that the reasons the mummies might have been raised may have been because he _was_ Death, and his power had been leeching off, feeding the spell – and causing the mummies to rise.

He wouldn't be able to control them – he was too weakened, but he could – perhaps – use them to slow down Imhotep. The thought was gone in the next moment, as he watched from above as Imhotep came free of his prison alike a darkness hatching from within.

Unaware he was being watched, Imhotep took his time – speaking with the curator, then with a girl whose soul was divided in two – one part what remained of Anck-su-namun – and the other the true and current soul of the girl, and all this merely gave Rick the distraction he needed to get closer.

 _Finally_ – though Imhotep had taken his sweet time about it - he had them lift Evelyn, preparing to throw her into the fire. Rick – in his typical fashion, chose then to play the hero – jumping through the fire, saving Evelyn, and giving anyone with a weapon the chance to shoot him.

Ardeth was quick to fire down on them, startling the men into action – they attempted to surround Rick, but among the confusion of the fight Ardeth made a path for them. Imhotep – who he couldn't kill with a shot, and didn't see the reason to waste fire on – was headed toward Rick – likely recognizing him and wanting to kill him.

Ardeth quickly saw a way to halt him – by hitting a barrel with a 'flammable' marker on it – likely it was gasoline they had used for the flamethrowers in the desert but it went up with a bang and that's what counted. Ardeth quickly scanned for Rick and Evelyn, hoping they hadn't been caught in the blast – he needn't have worried.

Evelyn was holding her own – but Imhotep must have had to have realized they were going to escape, and was determined to do as much damage as possible. While Rick was distracted, Imhotep made use of the extra magic – having sensed it easily with his new Immortal-like senses.

He was _summoning_ mummies – but not the useless ones, no – these would be past Ma-jei. The Pharaoh's Body Guards – one day, Ardeth was going to find out who had given that spell to Imhotep and make sure they knew the real meaning of the word 'hell' – for it had to have been given to him, only the Royal family had had access to the incantation.

Ardeth cursed as he fired down upon the creature and its servants, making his way down the stairs – toward Evelyn and Rick, determined to reach them _before_ Imhotep could finish his spell.

He did – but barely, Rick rushed them out of there, almost too quickly to notice that Evelyn had paused to drag a bench in front of the doors – Rick turned back momentary to pull her away from what would have been a sensible task - if not for the fact that these mummies didn't use doors.

Ardeth kept running, headed toward Rick's car – it was then, with Rick and Evelyn right behind him, when Ardeth realized with a jolt Jonathon and Alex were not within the vehicle. Rick was shouting, but Ardeth's attention was on the key hole within the car it had broken off.

Ardeth paused, thinking as he absentmindedly distanced himself from the here-and-now, and though he stood beside them, it was as if as he listened in a fog as they spoke – or to be more accurate - shouted, for all that he took only a few words. His attention was mostly upon interrupting Imhotep's spell the best he could. As he was now, at best – partly Immortal it was not against the rules to forcefully change the happenings of an event.

Partially if that event was leeching off his power – so he focused on bending the spell to his will instead of Imhotep's – his eyes snapped open when he felt the spell settle – obeying Ardeth unquestioningly. For all that Imhotep had summoned them – for now they obeyed Ardeth.

He 'woke' to find himself on a bus – Rick was staring at him, his lips pressed together and his eyes narrowed with whatever thoughts swam within his mind. Ardeth felt the magic tempt him to reach out and invade Rick's mind – it was a temptation he resisted ruthlessly – he had forgotten that Immortals were not tempted by the powers – while in a mortal body, they were.

Alex was settled on his mothers lap – having feared for her, and far from wondering at his trustworthiness – Evelyn looked concerned. This left only one option for a driver – Jonathon. Ardeth tried not to think about that.

"Are you alright?" Rick asked slowly – as if Ardeth might not hear him, successfully bringing Ardeth's attention back to him.

"Of course, why wouldn't I be?" Ardeth asked him, looking aside – he did not trust himself to look upon their faces and not be tempted to take a peek inside.

"You know, I've been thinking – about that time in Egypt, Jonathon got Harry drunk –"

"I have you know he was perfectly willing to be drunk at the time!" Rick was interrupted then by Jonathon shouting from the drivers seat – Ardeth managed not to flinch at the thought of crashing.

"Yes – well, he was going on about the entire situation being his fault – mumbling on as if he'd been around in Ancient Egypt – that they'd locked him up in that sarcophagus to kill Imhotep if he ever escaped. That we should have waited another seventy years before finding him – something about a Tom and Dumbledore. I supposed at the time those were his friends that betrayed him, I was too busy trying to make sure his ramblings didn't get him killed." Rick spoke, his eyes intently on Ardeth who was carefully avoiding eye contact. He could take in Rick's expression just as well by focusing on his nose rather then his eyes. Ardeth shrugged slightly, not letting his emotions show just yet.

"It took us a bit of a while to put it together, I admit that. We were the ones that found him in a sarcophagus, after all. He gave such a reasonable excuse, one we could sympathize with and believe with little doubt – and I bought it, because I'd been to Hamunaptra before – so why couldn't someone else have found their way there?" Rick's tone was one of self disgust, Evelyn looked to him and placed her hand on his shoulder – reassuring and understanding.

"I do not understand." Ardeth forced the words to form, and spit them out before he could regret them.

"Oh – would you give it up? We figured it out – your little ruse is over." Jonathon spoke, for Rick and Evelyn looked betrayed that he would deny what they knew for fact.

"You said it yourself – while you were, well, whatever that was." Rick waved a hand, his face set in its stubbornness.

"You kept repeating 'Immortal'…" Evelyn continued, and Ardeth allowed his eyes to meet hers, and feeling no pull to use his magic, allowed his expression to relax.

"I was merely calling on the immortal power of god, my friends." Ardeth murmured calmingly.

"No one could have survived, nor done, what Harry has, Ardeth." Evelyn hissed, her eyes narrowed, her hands clenched by her sides. Ardeth did not need his Immortal powers to know what was going on in their minds.

In desperation Harry had openly thrown spells at Imhotep – only to pay a terrible price for it. Harry had 'died' as a mortal being entombed by sand – only to be reborn as the Immortal Keeper.

While the memories had distracted them, Rick had acted – pulling a gun from his holster and pointed at Ardeth. Evelyn gasped, her eyes wide - filled with horror upon seeing her husband holding the weapon so.

"Evelyn says you're an equivalent of a God – why the hell are you putting my family through this?" Rick snarled, mixed sorrow and rage in his eyes, Ardeth watched him, wary – glancing at Alex who looked on with wide eyes. The boys innocence at what violence his father was capable of was about to be washed away – but Ardeth would stop it if he could.

"I have done nothing but help you, my friend – I beg you let me explain further – if not for our friendship – then for your son." Ardeth let his eyes fall with the trust he felt – it took a measure of control not to flinch with the sound of the gun meeting the leather of the holster.

"Talk, Ardeth – and it had better match Evelyn's theory, or we'll test that immortality you are supposed to have." Rick had sat back down, and Ardeth knew he was serious – for Rick never made a threat he didn't make good on.

"I am Immortal – this is true, but this wasn't always the case - I lived in a time when Immortals as a race walked among humans and influenced them as equals. I died challenging my predecessor – I am the Immortal who represents the element of Death." Ardeth allowed, and Alex gasped – his foot flinching away from where had rested near Ardeth, he did not allow an expression to cross his face – no matter that he mourned that they no longer had the innocence of ignorance.

"We have emotions – just as you do, we do not know our origins – just as you do not. Imhotep worshiped chaos – of whom as an element of Immortals I am most familiar with. When Imhotep lived – Chaos had a firm hold on humanity and threatened to overwhelm them – this would have affected the Immortals." Ardeth let the sorrow wash over him, pausing only to glance out the window at the passing scenery as he blinked, though no sign of tears showed.

"His reign could not be allowed to continue – as I was close to him at the time, I lured him to me – and threw him into the Between. He is trapped there – but elements of chaos remain – and will exist long after we cease to. Such events like this are strange – even to us, we feared both times Imhotep would try to become Immortal – he is nearly there. I have hope we can stop him." Ardeth admitted, an intenseness in his voice and frame told them that no matter how outrageous it seemed – it was truth.

"What about Harry - and the Ma-jei?" Evelyn's voice was soft – questioning, and Ardeth was grateful for it – if she was curious, some part of her had forgiven him. Rick would not be so easy to win back. As for Alex, well – Ardeth did not know the boy, but he thought Alex a little of both feelings his parents held.

As for Jonathon – well, he was silent.

"Harry was born a mortal – if one born with a rare gift – magic. I was the one who placed him in Ancient Egypt, to give him a second chance. I had fallen in love with him – but Imhotep did something unexpected, likely born of his connection with Chaos – he too grew fond of Harry." At his words –Evelyn's gaze grew sympathetic – understanding on his and Harry's behalf.

"Harry was only among them for a day before he was sealed away to do their dirty work. It was a seal even I could not break – so, I went foreword and born myself anew – this is my body – my soul born into it. I forgot myself – until Harry was freed, then I began to remember." Rick's eyes flickered to his wife – seeing she believed him, he frowned with indecision – balancing between his belief in Ardeth, and the betrayal.

The double-decker bus suddenly screeched to a halt, jolting all of them. Jonathon had stood, staring down at the seated Ardeth, paying no attention to his family, Ardeth knew he was furious. Though Ardeth did not know why.

"What the _hell_ , Jonathon?" Rick growled, seeing they were not close enough to be considered 'over' the water which they had long ago agreed might offer some protection from evil as Evelyn's myths hinted at.

"Well – that's all a very nice tale and all, Ardeth – or should I say Death? But… _where is Harry_." The words were spat out, for all that Jonathon normally played at being the joker – Harry had been his friend – and it bothered him that Ardeth – who was Harry's lover, had told this so calmly to them. Ardeth's gaze met Jonathon's and the first hint of steel that was Death peered back at Jonathon.

"I do not know." Death's sorrow washed over them – almost touchable, but certainly more real then anything else they had heard or seen from Ardeth that night.

It was then that Meela's men attacked.


	19. When Chaos Stares You In The Face

"Professor, are you quite alright?" Harry shook himself free of the feeling of unease that had had haunted him since he had awoken, some of the student – surprisingly even the ones who didn't like him very much – looked on at him in worry. It was no wonder really - as Harry had been staring off into space since (by the estimation of the hourglass on his desk) fifteen minutes into class.

Harry had jerked in his surprise upon seeing that – the students had been so silent, he had barely noticed them.

"I'm – ah, yes – yes I'm quite fine." Harry quickly reassured them as he glanced again at the hourglass, somewhat in a state of disbelief. He had woken up just barely on time for morning classes, having to skip breakfast wasn't good for him – even as an Immortal – but he was quite sure that was not the problem. But it remained, regardless, that ever since he'd woken up - he couldn't seem to "catch up" to how time was running – it seemed to be going faster, leaving him behind.

"Professor – uhm, you told us yesterday to write a paper on three common runes?" Peter spoke up, catching Harry's attention the moment he spoke. Peter was clearly unnerved to be the center of Harry's focus, seeing this – Harry looked to the side. This lead to a surprising discovery - someone in the beginning of the class had taken control and had had placed their paper on the desk – the rest of the students had followed in their lead. Harry wondered who the mystery student had been – he made a note to ask Anceps later.

"Yes – I remember that…we'll talk about that when I've had a chance to look them over." Harry reassured – some of the students who had likely thought his silence to be of displeasure looked a little less tense.

" _What is wrong with you_?" Anceps demanded of him, both heads of the snake gazed at him with worry. Instead of answering, Harry merely scratched Anceps neck; the stone-feeling scales where the heads parted were cool – offering a taste of Death's Gate through its own hide.

"I'm sorry, my mind is elsewhere," Harry spoke again the students only looked all the more concerned, then his eye caught on Lily's paper – though it had taken him a moment to realize it was his own mothers paper – though he did recognize her handwriting, "pardon me, Ms Evens – would you come foreword?" Harry asked her gently – Lily had tensed up, but obeyed.

"Yes, Professor O'Connell?" When she had drawn close enough to see that her paper was at the center of his attention, she bit her lip nervously, hands clasped in front of her. Harry smiled – trying to reassure, but failing miserably.

"Could you tell me where you found a reference to this rune?" Harry asked in a low voice, his hand reaching out and tapping the rough image of the rune. Lily's paper was very neat – on the paper was a depiction of the rune – its name, and a brief summery of what it did and how it had been used in the past.

The rune Harry pointed to – was not "common", at least not according to the knowledge he had gained by tapping into the 'stuff' that made him Immortal – in fact, according to that knowledge, it was supposed to be all but forgotten.

"I – I found its description in a book, it said it was only supposed to be a …an "exchange" rune…" Lily began haltingly, seeing that Harry had no intention of halting her – she continued quickly. "I drew it from the description of it – is it wrong?" She looked terrified at the prospect of having been wrong and losing face in front of her classmates and him self.

"No, Ms Evens – not at all. For the longest time, we never drew runes unless we wanted to do something with them – they were powerful symbols – believed in by even non magical folk. Some records remain that the runes could summon up God-like beings. In any case – that rune, Ms Evens – is supposed to be forgotten." Harry paused then and glanced to Anceps, wondering if what he said would change anything drastically – Anceps was no help, merely flicking his tongue out at Harry.

Harry stood up from his chair after snatching up the paper – he went to the board and using chalk drew out the rune. When he turned around – most of the students did not know what to make of it. It was a lighting bolt – the very same they had glimpsed on Harry's forehead. Up until that point, Harry didn't think that Lily had understood the connection – her eyes were as wide as saucers when he glanced to her again.

"It is indeed an exchange – of sorts…many take it to be a positive symbol – it can be used for either. It symbolizes a shift in power – from evil to good – love to loathing, life to death – it can, as muggles sometimes say, fall to either side of a two-sided coin. It is a matter of perspective. It has two 'rules' – if you will, once blessed – or cursed, with this rune, no one can kill you, but you can die –you also gain the attention of, as the ancients used to call them – Immortals." Harry gazed at Lily, wondering if this was where she had gotten the idea to save him from Voldemort with this very rune. Or, perhaps – it was a coincidence, Harry doubted that however.

Hushed whispers erupted in the class – Harry made no effort to halt them, his focus on Lily, trying to guess what his mother was thinking – if, having told her all this would change her mind at that critical moment swiftly approaching in a few years time. Had he created another alternate dimension in his efforts to teach? He hoped not – for Chaos, he suddenly knew, fed upon such splits in time.

"Immortals are just a myth…right, Professor?" The boy who sought the question reminded him of Neville in appearance – Harry wondered if this was Frank – or some sibling of his.

Harry set his hand on Lily's shoulder and nodded to her seat – silently giving her permission to sit down, she did so gratefully – Harry replaced her paper with the others on his desk, wondering how to answer _that_ question. Anceps had raised himself up, and slithered onto his shoulder as Harry turned to look at the class, hoping to find an answer.

"That, I'm afraid – is a question you will have to determine on your own."

O.o.O.o.O.o.O

"Is it just me, or did Professor O'Connell seem to be hiding something about those…Immortals?" Sirius finally blurted out, sounding rather impatient to learn his friend's feelings on the matter. He had, at least – waited until they were in their dormitory rooms to speak.

Peter was quiet, merely watching from his bed as he worked on some school work.

"What could he hide?" James asked his oldest friend, rather amused at the keen interest Sirius showed him. Remus, however – only tilted his chin, silently encouraging Sirius to go on.

"Well…I've never known a professor to tell us to find an answer that important for ourselves…" Sirius said softly, laying his head on his folded arms as he took in James' and Remus' expressions.

He knew their thoughts rested on what they had witnessed at dinner – Dumbledore had not looked pleased with O'Connell, they had huddled near each other hissing and whispering comments going mostly unheard.

Except…Remus _had_ heard, and had told the others – the argument had been about Immortals. Dumbledore had been saying quite firmly that Ivy should have told the class that they did not exist – and Ivy equally determined that the students make up their own minds and opinions on the subject.

"Perhaps… it's only that he doesn't know the answer himself…" Remus spoke up – Sirius gave him a clearly disbelieving look. In the face of it, Remus only shrugged, biting into his bottom lip with his thoughts. James sighed into the silence, turning onto his back as he folded his arms behind his head –only then, not facing his friends, did he speak.

"I can't help but feel that he is hiding something – I get such a… _strange_ feeling from him. As if he _knows_ me, and I'm _supposed_ to know him –he looks so much like me, but I've already asked my Father – he says we aren't related at all to his knowledge. He thinks the Professor is muggle born..." James sounded almost forlorn – he had _wanted_ a connection with their Professor – had wanted a reason to speak to him on even terms.

"Well, that's bogus. He hasn't cast a single spell since getting here, and the amount of power that surrounds him is hair rising." Peter mumbled, as he pretended to check something in his book – if only because then he wouldn't have to look up to see his friends expressions.

"A fair point, I still think we ought to speak with Professor O'Connell before we go around accusing him of all this – especially with how Dumbledore seems to dislike him now." Remus insisted – not wanting to lose their first interesting Ancient Runes Professor because of suspicion.

Sirius had thought of something and was frowning slightly – trying to remember in which direction Ivy had stormed off in after Dumbledore had dismissed him during dinner.

"But – when? We go to Hogsmeade tomorrow, and I don't want to miss it because we need to talk to him. I don't think we can convince him to go – let alone find his quarters before then…" While they had the Marauders Map, they were reluctant to bite their pride and admit they couldn't find the professor without it.

"Actually – we can use Padfoot!" James exclaimed, for he knew Remus would refuse outright if they suggested using his werewolf senses. It was simply because their friend did not like his difference shoved in his face.

"Great idea, James - come on – let's go find him right now!" Sirius had leapt out of his bed, impatient as a dog to be walked as he shifted his weight from side to side – waiting until everyone had stood up, as ready to go as he so obviously was.

Just as they were about to leave, Lily appeared her hands on her hips, her head tilted to the side – obviously expecting them to explain themselves.

"Uh- hi Lily… we, ah, wanted to speak with Professor O'Connell about his lesson today – that's all." James spoke up quite guiltily; for all that he hadn't yet done anything to be guilty of.

"Oh -! I'll go with you then, I wanted to ask him more about the exchange rune…" Lily seemed suddenly distracted as she grabbed her book bag; it had lain innocently enough on chair she had been sitting on in the common room.

"…great…" Sirius grumbled under his breath, knowing now he could not transform into Padfoot, but missing the freedom he found in being a Grim-dog. As he followed behind Lily and James, neither heard him – but Remus rolled his eyes, Peter skittered behind them, obviously fearful once they'd left the tower.

When they reached the dungeons – having followed Lily, as she would know better then they did where Professor O'Connell's rooms were – they were surprised when she led them to the kitchens.

"Uh – Lily, darling, we aren't hungry…" James began, but Lily ignored his attempt to guild her away from the passageway. Sirius became huffy – grumbling about girls and "food cravings" with his arms crossed – Remus was quite amused by the display.

They were quite shocked to find Lily knock on a passageway they had never noticed before.

"Professor – it's Lily, you told me to come here after class today!" There was a stubborn set to Lily's jaw that suggested she would not leave until the professor answered the door. Luckily – that did not take long.

Although they were all quite surprised to see that when it opened, it was Severus – not Professor O'Connell who stood to address them.

"What do _you_ want?" Severus' eyes were narrowed suspiciously at finding the five of them in front of him.

"We only want to speak with Professor O'Connell." Lily answered – Severus grunted, unmoving. James and Sirius, already imagining the horrible things that Severus could have done to the Professor, seemed ready to pull him aside.

"Severus – do let them in, take care to remember my rules – no one fights here, or you shall be at the mercy of Anceps…" O'Connell's voice drifted out from behind Severus – who reluctantly moved aside to reveal the elegantly dressed man sitting in an armchair with six stools already arranged around him. Anceps had stirred from his shoulder – its tongue flicking the air as they entered –Ivy seemed to sooth the snake, rubbing its scales in a soothing manner.

This, they knew – was the man they had come to see.

Oddly, they seemed to be expected.


	20. In Which Chaos Has Taken An Interest

What do _you_ want?" Severus' eyes were narrowed suspiciously at finding the five of them in front of him.

"We only want to speak with Professor O'Connell." Lily answered – Severus grunted, unmoving. James and Sirius, already imagining the horrible things that Severus could have done to the Professor, seemed ready to pull him aside.

"Severus – do let them in, take care to remember my rules – no one fights here, or you shall be at the mercy of Anceps…" O'Connell's voice drifted out from behind Severus – who reluctantly moved aside to reveal the elegantly dressed man sitting in an armchair with six stools already arranged around him. Anceps had stirred from his shoulder – its tongue flicking the air as they entered –Ivy seemed to sooth the snake, rubbing its scales in a soothing manner.

This, they knew – was the man they had come to see.

Oddly, they seemed to be expected.

O.o.O.o.O.o.O

"To what do I owe the pleasure of your visit?" Harry asked them as they cautiously sat themselves on the wooden stools Harry had spelled into existence. Lily sat herself between the Marauders and Severus, though Harry pretended not to notice.

 _Why are they here?_ Harry who had been seeking the link between Anceps and himself, asked abruptly.

"Well – ah, it's about the lesson, Professor." James began awkwardly, scooting about in his chair as if he could not get comfortable. Remus and Sirius flanked him – Remus sitting beside Lily to better but distance between James, Sirius, and Severus.

Quite frankly, Harry was baffled to why Severus had sought him out. His former Potions Master had been almost timid when Harry had invited him in. Severus had just begun to ask about the encounter he had witnessed between Harry and Dumbledore, when there had been a knock on the door, and Lily and the Marauders had invited themselves in.

 _You should not have let them bring up Immortals, Keeper – they want to know why you did not press them in believing or disbelieving_. Anceps replied mentally, the length of his body tightening around Harry's torso.

Harry only raised an eyebrow, wondering if he could somehow mentally erase everything of that lesson – blur it into something else. It would be useful. _Useful, yes, but I'm afraid you can't – it would bend too many of our laws_. Anceps told him as Severus shifted in his seat, it was remarkable how alike he and James were – Harry wondered if their families were related – and then stilled, realizing he did not, in fact, truly want to know if that was the case.

 _Bother, isn't there anything I can do to get out of this situation_? Harry asked Anceps, carefully keeping his face bland. It seemed to encourage them to glance between each other - wondering if they were going to get in trouble – or if 'O'Connell' simply needed them to speak up more.

 _I'm afraid not Harry, you could always disappear on them, but as leaving the castle is not something a normal wizard can do, I'm afraid your rather trapped_. Anceps, Harry knew then, had a very cruel sense of humor – the blasted snake wanted to see him stumble – he just _knew_ it.

"…there is also the matter of if you will be returning to work after the weekend; you were fighting with Headmaster Dumbledore, after all." Severus spoke up, his frame was tense and he was clearly nervous to be speaking with Harry with the Marauders and Lilly in the same room.

"Indeed? No – no, I'm afraid what you witnessed was merely a minor disagreement. Dumbledore suggested that I…well, that's really none of your concern – I will indeed be going back to work this coming week. In any case, Dumbledore and I also discussed taking you to see a creature that can reverse all runes – a unicorn, of course, but I did not want to be a bother to them." Harry's fingers tapped against his arm rest, it seemed to make him look annoyed – rather then nervous – but it made the students rest a little easier in their seats to know they would not get in trouble with their Headmaster for seeking their teacher out.

Harry paid that no mind for his attention was caught on the argument with Dumbledore. Dumbledore had told him that he had been extended an invitation into a certain organization Harry knew all too well of. Implying that runes would be especially valued, and that some of his students – if he refused – would be approached after their 7th Year ended. Harry had let his temper get away from him – knowing the damage runes could do – Harry had had to leave before, as Anceps had warned him, he did anything… _regrettable_.

"Professor O'Connell, are you feeling well?" Lily asked, her voice hushed, Harry blinked as if coming out of a trance, then smiled rather then answer right away. He had to be careful – the slightest slip of tongue and one of them was bound to attach them selves to whatever idea they produced.

"Yes, yes, I'm fine. Do you think the class would prefer to see foals or grown unicorns?" Harry asked her, startled Lily turned to look to the Marauders, and did not see Severus frown studiously at Harry, who stared quite calmly back.

"Ah, well, Professor – I'm not sure we could see either, as most of us – as 7th Years, have – um – that is, had…well, sex." Sirius blurted out, rather answer his professors' question of foals and grown unicorns – it _was_ quite an odd question.

Harry turned his eyes to him, and like an oncoming storm Sirius found he could not look away from Harry's eyes – they caught him, measured him – and Sirius felt – that Harry was more amused then insulted.

"Mr. Black, are you under the impression that unicorns shy away from people because they are not virgins?" Harry's tone was so dry, Sirius knew he was being sarcastic – Remus would certainly not look him in the eye, and James was carefully looking at the floor. Severus looked to be enjoying himself, and Lily held a hand in front of her lips, likely grinning at him behind it.

"Well, uh - that was what was _implied_." Sirius answered, not looking Harry in the eyes as he spoke.

"No, unicorns do not find sex distasteful - that would be most awkward for them in the mating season. They are pure beings; they can accept most things being as they sense emotion – but what they can not understand is human thought. This makes things awkward between us and unicorns, as we can not always understand our own thoughts – let along control them. We can feel one thing and think another and it…overwhelms them." Harry let his eyes close, knowing that he had let slip information that Herminie had puzzled out before Harry had "died" – no one was supposed to know the real reason. Harry had always hated misinformation – and even if it would cause him more hassle in the end, he'd rather they know the truth.

"How do you know that?" James asked him, frowning slightly – for he had never heard such a theory before. Very casually, their Professor shrugged a faint smile on his lips.

"It's written in the runes." As if that was the only answer needed, Harry turned his attention to his desk – and the stack of papers yet to be graded- and wondered how long they planned on staying. Harry had hoped to contract Death and find out how things were going on for him.

"Is the answer to the question of Immortals being real also written 'in the runes', Professor?" Severus asked abruptly, likely realizing Harry's attention was wavering and he was likely to forget about them if not reminded. Severus had not expected Harry's attention to seek him out, as he had with Sirius.

"Mr. Snape, where do runes come from?" There was a cautious note to his tone, as if their professor was quite sure the answer was obvious – although he did not look to think so. Severus pressed his lips together in an annoyed fashion – it figured that like any adult – their professor wanted them to learn from their question, rather then just answer plainly.

"Magic." Remus answered, looking more interested in the conversation, Lily too had straitened up in her seat, and her eyes fixed on Harry. _How is it she and James do not see their similarities in me_? Harry, quite alarmed at her fixed attention, asked Anceps hastily.

 _Do you think you look the same as an Immortal as you did when mortal?_ Anceps asked in turn, and before Harry could fix himself on that thought and think on it, he asked another question of his parents and their friends – and Severus, who he did not know how to react to.

"Where does magic come from?" Harry asked quite blandly – their attention elsewhere with his question - his fingers quit tapping a moment and he drew his magic to summon a cup of tea. Sirius and James glanced between each other, quite puzzled by this line of questions – for surely their professor did not know the answer. How did he expect them to guess at it?

"Wizards and witches, but of course..." Peter answered simply, seeing that the others weren't going to answer. Harry – much to Sirius' and Severus' surprise – avoided Peter's eye when he spoke. Lily and Remus glanced together, wondering what it meant while James leaned back in the seat, his arms crossed as he studied Harry.

"Wrong – even if the last pure blood wizard died out, there would still be magic else where – however else do you explain a witch or wizard who is born from many generations of purely normal people?" Harry sipped his tea, carefully keeping his eyes on the liquid.

He suspected something of Peter – and if they looked each other in the eyes – both would know at once what the other was. For now, if Chaos was indeed within Peter, Harry would rather the other Immortal not know he was the Keeper. The element of surprise was the only thing he had on his side; he'd rather not give it up just yet.

"...A freak." Peter snipped out, annoyed at being wrong – Lily gave him a nasty look, and though he did not see it James tensed his eyes narrowing, though he looked only to the floor. Sirius looked between Peter and Remus, wondering what was going on – Remus was no help for he looked just as confused as Sirius.

Severus, well his jaw clenched tightly to keep his tongue, but that was the only sign that he was furious. Something made Lily and Severus halt in speaking against Peter; something about their Professor had just…shifted, changed around as if what they saw was only a glimpse of something else, and that "something else" had…moved.

"Then, Peter, we are all…freaks…for if not for normal people, we would not exist." Harry spoke quite calmly; for all that his grip on the tea cup had turned his knuckles white. _Easy, Keeper – it's Chaos, look at his friends…it **must** be Chaos, do not look him in the eye_. At Anceps mental soothing, Harry kept his gaze down, no matter that he wanted to draw Chaos out this moment and be done with it all.

"How do you mean?" Remus asked, wanting to keep the conversation going so James and Sirius would have something else to think of. He did not know what had gotten into Peter, but whatever it was seemed dead set on turning his friends against him.

"Magic is a wonderful tool – used to be in ancient times beyond the age of Pyramids normal people could use it as well, but, somewhere along the line someone got greedy and fed the magic to only the people they deemed "worthy" the "pure"; magical people who had generations of people who could use magic very well indeed. They set themselves up as Gods, so "lesser" people would worship them and fed them their power." Harry answered, looking more or less calm be the time he finished explaining, though Peter was frowning, having noticed that Harry was avoiding eye contact and trying to gain it.

"No one stopped these people?" Lily asked, not daring to look at Peter least she lose her temper.

"It's very funny for you to ask that – because, according to some, that's where Immortals immerged. Immortals who were powerful in magic, who were fed magic – directly or indirectly, for most of their lives – then, when mortal, they died – they came back and thrived on magic alone. No one knows why, some say they simply had too much magic to die – some say that the population at that time did not want them to die. Whatever the reason Immortals overwhelmed the mortal "Gods". It's possible Immortals are merely a word for a very powerful magician, but I do not – like some seem to – think that our ancient ancestors were any less intelligent then we are today." They were so caught up in his explanation no one but Severus noticed he vanish the tea cup away without even a glance to it. Which Severus knew was quite impossible without a wand. Unless… Ivy O'Connell was as powerful as Dumbledore and Voldemort – and what were the odds of that?

"So you think that there _were_ Immortals?" James asked then, wanting a firm opinion, Harry noticed this and rather then skip around the question he answered it. Sirius, who sat between Peter and James was the only one to notice Peter tilt his head in a very un-Peter-like way, waiting for their professor to speak.

"Yes, but is my mere opinion." Harry answered plainly, for he had grown tired of the run around. They did not look too surprised at his answer, though Peter shifted in his seat clearly wanting to ask something else of him.

" _That, Keeper, is very foolish to admit – they'll suspect something of you now_ …" Anceps hissed aloud, Harry, unable to answer at such a critical moment, merely soothed Anceps by rubbing his eye-ridges.

"Do…do you think they still exist?" Peter asked then, and the others looked to him, wondering where he had gotten the courage to ask the question they had not quite gotten up the courage to ask.

"That is something you must deicide on your own, but – ask yourselves how it came to be that belief in runes, merely drawing them in the dirt and sand, was enough to put magic in them?" Harry was still carefully not looking Peter in the eye and it was beginning to get to him. Sirius and James, at least – looked between each other wondering what would become of their professor seeming to ignore their friend. They did not want to prank Ivy O'Connell – well, perhaps they did a _little_ bit – but not until they knew the magic their professor could retaliate with.

"You think runes are related to the Immortals? _How_?" Severus was surprised that Peter was the one to ask the question he had thought up in Ancient Runes that very day. Harry pressed his lips together, and Anceps shifted on his shoulder warningly.

"I think I have said more then enough for tonight, I fear I am far too tired to think properly let alone theorize - please see your selves out. If you must, sleep on what I've told you, then we may talk about this later." Harry stressed the word, and they got the impression that this was not a conversation their professor wanted discussed in class or out in the open.

"Oh- ah, alright Professor O'Connell…good night…" Lily spoke, finding the way in which he had dismissed them somewhat rude. None the less Lily managed to pull the Marauders and Severus up to stand, though somewhat awkwardly.

The students looked between each other, wondering what had happened between Peter and their professor – for _something_ clearly had. With the way Peter was frowning, they knew they wouldn't get any answers from him – and unless Remus, James, and Sirius wanted to hear Peter rant about it, they knew better to ask. Lily and Severus looked between each other, then to Harry, who paid them no mind as they went to the door, expressions somewhat defeated.

"Good night." Harry's voice was almost soft enough to have been mistaken for something else – yet they were sure he had spoken and felt somewhat better – as if they had not somehow let him down. The trap-door closed behind them, and they were left in the stone hall with a portrait of fruit on the far end. With Severus with them, the Marauders knew they dared not go to the kitchens.

"He's a bit odd isn't he?" Remus spoke after a while, his expression somewhat distant, he had not spoken since they had parted company with Severus and Lily who had gone to the Slytherin dorm and the Gryffindor girl's dorm respectively. James and Sirius were relieved he was not somehow mad at them for the professor tossing them out.

"I think he's brilliant!" Sirius grumbled pouting slightly, something about the professor attracted him, though it was not a physical attraction – just that he somehow felt they were more alike then it appeared.

" _You_ would." James teased knowing that if O'Connell had been female age difference or not, Sirius would have attempted to date her. Thankfully – or rather, not, before James could mimic Sirius and "Ivy O'Connell" falling in love and smooching or some such nonsense, Peter spoke up, and what he said chilled them for he did not sound like Peter when he said it.

"Still, he plays the part of a fool, but he really is intelligent when it comes to this stuff. I wonder if we set him and Lord Voldemort on each other, which would come out the winner." That was the end of their night, for Peter turned over, clearly intending on getting some sleep. The three looked between each other and decided that was for the best.

O.o.O.o.O.o.O

"That, Keeper, was a very foolish thing to do." It was not Anceps who had spoken. Ever since Anceps had tightened warningly around his shoulders, Harry had known he was being observed – it was really to be expected as in his time if a 'mortal' was spilling such Immortal information one to key individuals that shaped the future – one of his own Immortal fellows would have seen to it.

"How do you know I was here?" Harry turned his attention to the Immortal woman before him – it was Eternity, for a moment he wondered where Sirius was, but thought better then to ask.

He could tell that she was the Eternity he knew, and that – for all she appeared solid; she was not in actually in front of him.

"I had to check a few years between this time and the time of your birth, be wary, Chaos suspects you." Her words sent a chill through him, but Anceps hissed softly, though there were no words to follow and Harry suspected it was merely a part of his nature.

"How do you know he suspects me?" Harry asked, trying to remember any other thing he had let slip then information. Eternity appeared startled for a moment likely having expected he had sought out the information through one of the memories of the previous Keepers that teased and mixed with his own thoughts.

"He and I knew each other in life." Eternity's answer was sharp, and Harry knew he would not get anymore information from her on either Chaos or their past together. Harry thought she would leave then, but she did not, pausing for a moment to look to where Sirius had sat.

"I must go, Sirius is in need of me – be wary of Justice and Discord of this time, they will sense your presence soon, if they have not already – they were the ones to find Sirius for us. Hurry, Harry – you do not have much more time." She met his eyes then, and Harry knew there was something she wasn't telling him, before he could speak, she fled.

 _I **hate** when they do that_. Anceps hissed mentally, curling protectively around Harry's neck, Harry merely sighed and glanced at the fire. He watched it until he drifted to sleep, still musing on what he had learned, and wondering if there was a way to turn it to his advantage.


	21. The Night They Stole a Child from Death's Sight

- _Previously_ -

The double-decker bus suddenly screeched to a halt, jolting all of them. Jonathon had stood, staring down at the seated Ardeth, paying no attention to his family, Ardeth knew he was furious. Though Ardeth did not know why.

"What the _hell_ , Jonathon?" Rick growled, seeing they were not close enough to be considered 'over' the water which they had long ago agreed might offer some protection from evil as Evelyn's myths hinted at.

"Well – that's all a very nice tale and all, Ardeth – or should I say Death? But… _where is Harry_." The words were spat out, for all that Jonathon normally played at being the joker – Harry had been his friend – and it bothered him that Ardeth – who was Harry's lover, had told this so calmly to them. Ardeth's gaze met Jonathon's and the first hint of steel that was Death peered back at Jonathon.

"I do not know." Death's sorrow washed over them – almost touchable, but certainly more real then anything else they had heard or seen from Ardeth that night.

It was then that Meela's men attacked.

O.o.O.o.O.o.O

Ardeth had quickly flinched to alertness, for after hearing a burst of gunfire shatter the silence of the night- before he was quite aware of what was going on - he found he had turned swiftly to see out of the window at his back – and found himself crouching under the window as more gunfire erupted – shattering the glass which fell onto him, spilling blood as small bits of glass nicked his neck and exposed skin.

From the front of the bus came Jonathon's cursing ("Bloody Hell, I do believe those filthy mongrels are trying to _kill_ me!"), as the first shots had likely been aimed for him – and the engine. It was quite an accomplishment of fate that Jonathon had not died. Evelyn shouted a warning ("Get _down_ , Jonathon!"), while pulling Alex down beneath the seats, shielding his smaller frame with her own.

In the silence of the gunfire – and knowing there would be more to come, Ardeth's eyes met Alex's very wide ones – the boy was scared, and had every right to be with Death sitting across from him. Instead of pointing out that he was one Alex's side – Ardeth, feeling a quick pull on the sleeve of his robes - turned away from the boy. Rick had somehow managed to get beside him – Rick met his eyes, and Ardeth knew without a doubt the man would take his help, as he was determined to protect his family.

Very slowly, Ardeth nodded his agreement to the plan he saw in Rick's mind; although seemingly started at the appearance of this ability, Rick was not one to "kick a gift horse in its mouth" and proved it by lifting his own gun to fire out the window. In quick succession he fired off several shots out of the shattered window, in the confusion, Ardeth took the time to peer out the broken window.

Quickly, he scanned the houses and buildings for signs of their attackers – all the buildings were one or two stories, and mostly solid brick masses, save for the rare alley. Seeing no way to count the hidden men in the dark, he pulled at his Immortal abilities – using it to count now many "not dead" men had surrounded them.

 _Twenty_. Ardeth felt his heart sink, though he hid his emotions well when he ducked back beneath the window, only to meet Rick's demanding gaze.

"Twenty." Ardeth reported, feeling cold inside as he saw Rick swallow, looking to his family with worry.

"Well, can't you do something about them – _kill_ them maybe?" Jonathon demanded from where he crouched in the front. Ardeth inhaled, closing his eyes as he "felt" the men – mercenaries were rarely healthy – they hadn't the luxury for it. Ardeth's breath hissed out in surprise – feeling Imhotep's newly developing Immortal powers coated them.

Not just giving them protection from other Immortals – but giving them 'luck', which would unbalance chance enough to give them near misses from firearms, even at close range. Even facing one with a sword would be at a disadvantage – for every moment you fought them, you would feel all the aches and pains over the years come upon you unexpectedly. Also –most predictably, he saw a curse in his minds eye, the curse was one Death had used in the past, that whomever fought in this battle against these men, would have injuries that would not heal – that would bleed until the person died, or was healed by a Immortal. Any Immortal that was not Death – even his sisters, or Sirius – would be advised not to heal them, as to do so – if not already a breach in a peace treaty – would break it entirely.

"You can not fight these men." Ardeth told them abruptly, a cold feeling settling in his stomach as he opened his eyes to meet Rick's narrowed gaze. Ardeth knew Rick saw him as something like a betrayer, but he could not afford to worry about hurt feelings just now.

"And _why_ is that?" Evelyn demanded before Rick or Jonathon could.

"Imhotep gave them some of his power – if I fight them, it would go against laws that have been in place sense Chaos was sealed. If you fight them – you would have to overcome fate and chance – for these men have luck on their side. For every minute you would fight – you would feel, at best, aches and pains – at worst death wounds – as any injury you've acquired in the past will come to haunt you all at once. Also – minor or great, the wounds you get in this battle will not heal without an Immortal greater then Imhotep to break them." Ardeth explained softly, but as quickly as he could – knowing the men outside would not wait forever to fight them.

"Wait – you're Death, _itself_. Aren't you stronger then Imhotep?" Alex asked in a confused tone. Ardeth nodded slowly, his grip on the sword he carried tensing as gunfire again erupted.

"For now, yes," Ardeth answered simply as the gunfire ceased, "but if Imhotep continues to gain power, I do not know which Immortal he would become, he was once a servant of Chaos – he may replace Chaos if I act too soon directly against him." And that, Ardeth knew – was his greatest fear, to unleash another Chaos upon the world.

"Damn-it, Ardeth – can't you at least do _to us_ what Imhotep has done to _them_?" Rick demanded as he heard the men daring to approach closer, the metal soles of their boots clanging against the cobbled road.

"If I do – there is a chance you would become Immortal as well." Ardeth answered shortly before he and Rick fired off more warning shots – sending the men scattered to the shadows.

"Do it." Rick demanded of him then, grasping Ardeth's arm in his hand as Ardeth began to reload. Ardeth met Rick's eyes, and very slowly, he nodded – in some amusement he watched Rick squeeze his eyes shut – Ardeth let out a shuddering breath summoning his Immortal power, and letting it wash over Rick. Rick would not feel it – though he obviously expected it to.

"It is done." Ardeth announced as Rick opened one eye, a surprised expression washing over his face.

"That's it?" Rick asked his tone somewhat doubtful.

"That's it." Ardeth assured him thought not at all happy at what he had done, Rick grinned wickedly. Something dark - that Ardeth feared he had placed within his friend - flashed in Rick's eyes as he reloaded, and fired at their would-be attackers. The men let out yells and screams as Rick hit his mark, taking down three of them.

"Protect my family – I'm going to get rid of these guys." Rick instructed, Ardeth, feeling somewhat drained, merely nodded in agreement, watching as Rick crawled down the aisle of the bus (pausing only briefly to kiss Evelyn, who told him to be careful, and ruffle Alex's hair) to meet their attackers from the back, where he would likely have the advantage.

Then, Ardeth lost track of everything as the fight erupted in earnest, for with Rick openly attacking them, they became bold – remembering Imhotep's promise that they would be invincible. Even finding it false when Rick took them down one-by one, they fought on.

In time – Ardeth was sure of only a few things, blood was being shed, for Death leeched power from the deaths as he had not done since days of old. He was also aware that Rick was doing well – but Imhotep's men had seen that Ardeth was the only one protecting their target, and as their focus narrowed onto him – yet luring Rick further away from his family, waiting for the perfect time to strike.

Ardeth was aware of all of this – it was whispered into his mind as his Immortal powers urged him to turn fully to Death – to take the lives of the men that threatened him with only a touch or a word.

Ardeth did his best to battle both his opponents and the Immortal urge – for he knew if given half a chance he could turn to the "dark" of Death, letting the urge to kill and maim take over, and influencing mortals to do the same. It was the very real truth to the reason he needed Harry – so to keep a balance between those extremes – to trust someone would pull him back if he went too far.

The only thing that kept him sane – the only reason he remained "mortal" – was the memory of his promise to keep Rick's family safe. Ardeth stood in front of them – fighting against the men who had surrounded the double-decker bus, crawling in through the windows; a few even bold enough to go through the door. Evelyn and Jonathon were just behind him, they had decided to attempt to rejoin Rick at the back of the bus – and Ardeth merely followed, hoping Rick would be there.

Despite his best attempts, while holding back three men, two managed to get behind him and Evelyn and Jonathon found themselves facing them – Alex shuffled even further behind as they slowly made their way to the back of the bus, all to escape what had been their sanctuary only moments before.

Ardeth could never later be sure how it happened – and for that matter, neither could Rick – but somehow the path Rick had hacked through Imhotep's men, was not enough to deter Lock-Nah who was quick to grab Alex from behind them.

At Alex's yelp ("Mum! Dad! Help") their attackers fled, and though Evelyn and Jonathon held onto the boys ankles ("Don't let go Jonathon –!") when Lock-Nah pressed the blade against the boy's neck ("If you do not want to see what your own flesh and blood looks like spilled onto my knife – I would advise letting go.") they let go, Evelyn shaking as Jonathon held her watching helplessly as Alex was dragged off.

"Rick…" Evelyn, seeing her husband who had been mere feet away spun around only to see his son being carried off, and took a jerky step forward. Lock-Nah, smugly, only shook his head warningly, Alex whimpering when the knife against his neck jerked and his blood shined in the dark, dripping onto his shirt collar.

"I would not advise coming any nearer, O'Connell..." Lock-Nah hissed warningly, even Ardeth's own efforts were throttled when, after rushing though the double-decker bus (remaining low to the ground, in hopes that though Lock-Nah knew he was on the bus, he would not see him coming) he emerged from the entrance – mere inches from Lock-Nah and Alex.

"Ardeth, I trust we will meet again some other night." Lock-Nah purred, watching as Ardeth who had been about to call on his Immortal power found himself confused when he 'saw' that Lock-Nah's life force mixed with Alex's and if Ardeth were to summon up Death, and whisper for Lock-Nah to die, he could not be sure if Alex would not suffer as well. It was a subtle spell, but one that confused his limited "mortal" power as Death.

"We'll get you back, Alex!" Evelyn promised from behind Ardeth as Lock-Nah, seemingly unstoppable, took several more steps away. It was then that the car screeched to a stop beside Lock-Nah, and after forcing Alex into the back, he fired off several warning shots before leaving in a screech of tires.

Absently, Ardeth heard them come up behind him.

"Were you shot Ardeth?" Rick demanded softly, his tone broken, Ardeth's gaze flickered to his hand – and slowly, he uncurled his fist – three shells rung out against the concrete. He heard Evelyn gasp softly in surprise; Jonathon took his fist and opened it the rest of the way – only to find it unmarred.

Ardeth's appearance seemed to "flicker"- then shatter, and where once he had stood, now stood another – where once he had had short (if wavy) black hair, it was now longer, smoother and fell to his waist. Where once the sun had touched his skin and turned it dark – it was now pale, his lips were deep blood red – and his eyes as alien as the night sky.

Slowly, Ardeth breathed in – his breath an audibly soft hiss, and then they saw the fangs.

"…Ardeth, you with us?" Rick choked out, feeling - for the first time - the waves of power that were he had let be wrapped around himself. They drew closer to him as the night seemed to react to his fury, the darkness deepening as if a fog surrounded them.

" **They are doing to die, painfully, Evelyn – they will not know rest after death…I give you my word in this**." The night-sky eyes blazed sliver, and Ardeth – no, Death, took a step forward, crossing the distance in a foot step that it would have taken them days to travel – the world seemed to flicker before them as they were taken with Death in that step.

It took Rick a moment to recognize the place, when he did – he smiled grimly. Who said Death didn't have a sense of humor, Evelyn (who had been clinging to his arm) relaxed, seeing that they were in a desert.

" **I believe, you wished for a "magic carpet" to save your son with**." Death spoke, seemingly more in control now. In the horizon, the sun was rising – all across the desert; Death knew seers of the Ma-jei would dream of the danger swiftly approaching and make the journey to Ahm Shere without delay.

"Well, if you can do _this_ – why not take us strait into Ahm Shere?" Jonathon asked then, his tone sulky. Evelyn elbowed him sharply in the side as Death glanced to Jonathon and ice seemed to freeze the desert sand Death stood upon.

" **Only, Harry – the Keeper, could do that and expect you to survive it**." Death answered simply – and Jonathon swallowed uneasily, knowing that – for the moment Death was not "here" – he was thinking of Harry. As Rick left with Evelyn – trusting in Death to protect him, Jonathon wished dearly that Harry was with them – if only to keep a "leash" on Death.

Uneasy, Jonathon followed Rick and Evelyn, Death at his heels and Jonathon found himself cringing. For, every time Death took a step, the eerie sound of ice breaking on the sand followed.


	22. Songs of Sand and Death

"… _I know you can understand me little one, so you must listen carefully because_ …it is you who are the Chosen One, you who will take me to Ahm Shere …." The dark voice whispered from the shadows, a tall figure took a step foreword. He was cloaked in plain black, though a dark bronze mask covered his entire face. It looked old for though the surface had once been worn smooth - it was now beginning to rust, and quite plainly - rough to the touch. With wide its almond shaped eyes, a thin - if long nose, high cheek bones and for all that it, in an ancient way, was sophisticated and noble.

"What if I don't? What if I get a little lost?" Asked the boy that stood before the bronze masked man, he was a small blond and blue eyed, not quite ten years of age dressed casually in slacks and shirt.

A fine jacket covered his shoulders and upon his pale wrist gleamed the golden Bracelet of Anubis– a foreigner to Egypt, though one that clearly understood the ancient language. The man behind the bronze mask laughed, the sound somehow echoing within the room, it was then very silent only the sounds of the machinery that ran the train could be heard – though even they were strangely muffled.

"You have strength little one. You are your father's son, but I know something you do not." The mans tone implied that there was much he knew that the boy did not – and though the boy looked unsure, he stood firmly, a stubborn set to his jaw.

"This bracelet is a gift and a curse," murmured the man as he lifted the item – the boy's wrist reluctantly following, though the boy looked curious to know what the man meant, he did not ask – nor did he move way, "the sands of time have already begun to pour against you."

"Yeah, yeah, I already heard this part. From the moment I put the bracelet on; seven days do I have before the Scorpion King wakes up." The boy snapped managing to be both snooty and sarcastic - then, jerking his wrist away (which the bronze masked man let fall at the hint of resistance) the boy backed up a few steps as the man rose to his full height, dwarfing the boy.

"Did you also hear that if you do not enter the pyramid before the sun strikes it on that very morning, that the bracelet will suck the life out of you?" The man purred, the bronze mask seeming to smirk smugly down at the boy.

"That part I missed," the pale boy murmured - clearly frightened, having gasped and looked to the side, his focus was suddenly upon the man again, "hey, wait a minute…that means I only have five days left!"

"Then I believe it would be best if I do not get lost – don't you?" The man asked softly, the masks eyes seeming to gleam then, mimicking the man's tone of confident assurance. The boy glared up at him, loathing shining in his eyes – though it was his fear that tensed his small frame.

"My dad is going to kick your ass." The boy hissed, eyes narrowed as the man bent to height – now eye-to-eye with the mask, the boy was unprepared for what the man did next. Black gloves toughed the chin of the mask, quickly – astonishingly – it fell away from a face that showed clear signs of having been mummified for thousands of years.

The boy's gasp of horror rattled his own bones, shivered along his skin – and made the creature before him make an expression that was eerily like a smirk. _It_ , the boy realized as fear and a horrified kind-of fascination as he looked at the creature – both rolled off him in waves, _is pleased that I'm afraid_.

"I do not think so." The creature – Imhotep, hissed to a boy no more then ten – a boy called Alex, whose mother and father had made enemies of the creature before him. Alex may have wondered how such a creature was created as he was led away.

The truth was that the a three thousand year old High Priest of an Ancient God that had once been born of chaos, and ruler of the things in the dark that made all person tremble in fear - had died with the curse of the Hom-dai over him. A curse in which a person died in a most horrific way – their bodies rotting around them, as they would remain for all eternity – their body rotting, but never entirely gone.

For, there was a chance – a chance that those cursed with the Hom-dai could come back.

If, as had been done in this case – he had been awoken with a purpose, and the full spell spoken; those cursed by the Hom-dai to live forever in rotting flesh could, by chance, become Immortal.

This was the creature Alex faced.

Imhotep needed only to trick thieves into opening the sacred chest –which had been, in the time of the ancients the "lock" that bound his power, a safeguard if he awoken. He had broken it once, and knew that to gain his power (and the power of an Immortal with it) all he needed to do was to take their lives.

O.o.O.o.O.o.O

"… _this place…is cursed_ …" A man proclaimed softly to the two other men who stood on either side of him. They stood in a room on a train; it was an odd sort of room to find in such a place, there were decorations one would expect in a museum – statues and other sorts of rare artifacts.

At the same time it was dim lighted – just beyond them was a curtained area where – in plain view – seemed to lay a shrine. Atop a table on a red table cloth was a box – the very box they had delivered to their employers. They had gone into this room to find their promised payment and leave.

"What is with you and curses?" Snapped the shorter of the three men, narrowing his eyes at the man that had spoken – he made no reply, seeing as they all three carried weapons –this was likely the wisest choice as their tempers were frayed, they half delivered what they _knew_ to be a cursed box – for the last men who had opened it together…had died.

"He ain't happy without a good curse. This is cursed. That is cursed." Mocked the lighter skinned – the man who had first spoken made no comment as he was made fun of. The shorter rolled his eyes, fingers lingering on the warm metal handle of his sword.

"Give it a rest, will you?" The shorter had tensed up, having thought he saw, out of the corner of his eye, something move in shadows. His partners obeyed, knowing now that something was amiss. The very air seemed stifled – still – waiting.

Then, it was filled with _moving sand_ – it was alike to a sand storm deciding to step onto the train – it baffled them, they gave shouts of horror – of fear – then…it ceased with the sound of metal cracking down on metal.

The door behind them – the door that had once been open – was shut and locked. They were trapped. As if summoned by some blessing, the girl who had led them into this room appeared in the window of the door. She smiled prettily, though there was a taint of darkness to it when they begged her to open the door, she merely shrugged her lips moving to form the words " _it's stuck_ ".

Then…a sound, it was of dry flesh whispering against the floor. Then _it_ was there – seeming to come out of no where – jeering at them, monstrous in the impossibility of what they were seeing. It seemed to laugh at them as they let out horrified yells – merely stepping closer.

"It wants you to open the chest!" The girl was openly smiling as she spoke – unnoticed, the creature in its own way returned the smile – it was as if it was a joke being passed between them. Regardless, the three men were too caught up in their fear to put the dots together quickly enough to save their lives – the tallest, who had mocked his friend who had proclaimed this place cursed forgot the bloody history of the chest – opening it.

A shot rang out – striking the creature - for a moment, the creature stood motionless – as if undecided – then it burst into sand.

"Where'd he go?" The man who had opened the chest demanded of the seemingly empty train car. His two companions stood some distance away - though they too looked franticly for the creature.

The man chanced to look up – and came face-to-face with the creature who hung from the train car roof unassisted – his eyes widened, his mouth started to open as the creatures did – mimicking each other. Then – horrified, his friends watched on, helpless, as the life of their partner was extinguished.

They did not have long to mourn him, for the creatures attention was suddenly turned to them. They knew then with certainty that this was what had killed the men who had previously opened the chest.

They also knew… _they_ were doomed to share the same fate.

O.o.O.o.O.o.O

_In another time and place – Harry Potter, Keeper of the Crossroads and Arches, jerked awake knowing he had shared a splinter of the vision Death had shared among his decedents – the Ma-jei_

_Imhotep had returned to power._

O.o.O.o.O.o.O

Death drew in a sharp breath – his power had touched Harry – simply sending the visions of what he sensed from Alex and Imhotep, while taxing – had been well worth it. He found himself mere feet from the gated compound – and was more then a little grateful he had stopped short of actually entering the compound, as it was an unlooked for bit of wisdom.

Gradually – like a tide, his power and rage receded until he could _think_ without the constant tugging of the life-forces surrounding him. In his rage, he had not felt the drain – that was understandable as it was a natural defense for an Immortal. Pending on their nature, Immortal's reacted very differently to threats.

His fingers flexed as he felt the Ma-jei call out to him, responding to the visions he had laid over Seers like a web. They were not pleased by the task he had inevitably set before them – but, they, being warriors of the desert – were more then ready to take on challenges that threatened their way of life.

So, when Death felt them prepared to be taken to his side – the commanders of the twelve tribes already mounting saddled horses – he did not flinch in "wastefully" using his power to - in a mere moment - shadow walk them to his side.

They appeared behind him – watching, waiting to see what he wanted them to do. Without sparing a second glance to the commanders, Rick, Evelyn, and Jonathon joined him. Jonathon was the only one to look slightly uneasy at seeing he had "recovered" – though not put up the "illusion" of being Ardeth.

"…I'm going to get shot…" At the faint voices proclamation he glanced up – the man he saw was slender, young (and called, Death remembered from Rick "Izzy") – he reminded Death of a frazzled rabbit.

He wore clothes that did not entirely fit him, and an eye patch that he did not need – Death pressed his lips together, glancing at the frozen over sand of the desert beneath his feet. Only then did he wonder if he should tell Izzy that – while he _could_ get shot – Death would ensure he not cross the Arches that marked the Realms of Between and Death.

"These are the Commanders of the Twelve Tribes of theMa-jei," Death spoke reluctantly when Rick raised an inquiring eyebrow, " _Horus_." Death called lifting his arm – with a cry a falcon did not hesitate to come to him. Horus was how the Ma-jei knew for-sure he was Death – in whatever form, the falcon knew him. Horus was cared for by the Ma-jei, and while Death did not see him as a "familiar" – or even remotely "his" animal – Horus had adopted him as a friend.

"Ah, pet bird." Jonathon murmured looking very unimpressed, almost sneering. At his tone, Death could feel the Ma-jei commanders behind him suppress their indignation at the offence.

"My best and most clever friend." Death corrected chidingly as he focused on the small metal tube that was fastened to the falcon's leg by a leather strap. At his mental suggestion – which was for the commanders to fall back and follow at a distance – he heard them leave turning only a moment to watch them, Horus fluttered his wings and Death knew Horus would do as he asked. He lifted his arm, watching as he took off a part of him longed to follow – to fly, but he turned away to look next to him, where Rick stood.

"He will let the commander know of our progress so that they may follow. If the Army of Anubis arises they will do all they can to stop it." Of that, Death had no doubts – it was a different hand that played at if they would succeed.

Following after Rick and Evelyn into the compound, he wasn't very sure if he was as displeased as Rick at what he saw there – a small dirigible – made him more then a little uneasy. When placing his trust in flight, he liked planes rather then something that relayed on a highly combustible gas.

Rick started to draw his gun – before he could aim it, Izzy began to speak.

"Whoa, whoa, _whoa_! She's faster then she looks. And she's quite, real quite. Perfect for sneaking up on people, which is a very good thing," Izzy assured, before starting to turn away muttering "unless of course, we go with your approach; barging in face-first, guns blazing, and getting your friends shot in the ass!"

"Izzy, you were right." Rick agreed eyeing his handgun – Izzy raised his eyebrows – clearly this was something noteworthy for Rick.

"I was?" Izzy encouraged when Rick had paused, amused Death watched Rick, waiting for his reaction.

"Yeah," Rick spoke while putting his handgun back in its holster, "you're gonna get shot." Evidently, though, he was not going to be shot just yet.

"Why can't you people ever keep your feet on the ground?" Death grumbled, when he had thought of flying with Horus – trusting in one of the Mortal Realm's newest innovations had not been what he had had in mind.


	23. Falling Stars Passing Their Blessings onto Thee

_Previously_ …

"That, Keeper, was a very foolish thing to do." It was not Anceps who had spoken. Ever since Anceps had tightened warningly around his shoulders, Harry had known he was being observed – it was really to be expected as in his time if a 'mortal' was spilling such Immortal information one to key individuals that shaped the future – one of his own Immortal fellows would have seen to it.

"How do you know I was here?" Harry turned his attention to the Immortal woman before him – it was Eternity, for a moment he wondered where Sirius was, but thought better then to ask.

He could tell that she was the Eternity he knew, and that – for all she appeared solid; she was not in actually in front of him.

"I had to check a few years between this time and the time of your birth, be wary, Chaos suspects you." Her words sent a chill through him, but Anceps hissed softly, though there were no words to follow and Harry suspected it was merely a part of his nature.

"How do you know he suspects me?" Harry asked, trying to remember any other thing he had let slip then information. Eternity appeared startled for a moment likely having expected he had sought out the information through one of the memories of the previous Keepers that teased and mixed with his own thoughts.

"He and I knew each other in life." Eternity's answer was sharp, and Harry knew he would not get anymore information from her on either Chaos or their past together. Harry thought she would leave then, but she did not, pausing for a moment to look to where Sirius had sat.

"I must go, Sirius is in need of me – be wary of Justice and Discord of this time, they will sense your presence soon, if they have not already – they were the ones to find Sirius for us. Hurry, Harry – you do not have much more time." She met his eyes then, and Harry knew there was something she wasn't telling him, before he could speak, she fled.

 _I **hate** when they do that_. Anceps hissed mentally, curling protectively around Harry's neck, Harry merely sighed and glanced at the fire. He watched it until he drifted to sleep, still musing on what he had learned, and wondering if there was a way to turn it to his advantage.

O.o.O.o.O.o.O

In another time and place – Harry Potter, Keeper of the Crossroads and Arches, jerked awake knowing he had shared a splinter of the vision Death had shared among his decedents – the Ma-jei

Imhotep had returned to power.

O.o.O.o.O.o.O

 _Think, Keeper_ , Anceps urged softly, the great two headed snake curled shell-like upon the Immortal's bed, _Chaos is playing you – it is the only answer_. Moments before Harry had jerked awake – dawn felt like it was ages away, and while Anceps was sure Harry was tired, he knew Harry would not go to sleep anytime soon.

"Even if he is," Harry grumbled softly, glancing to the fire, his fingers twitching when his gaze caught sight of the powder that would summon the Witch or Wizard he desired to speak to, "he knows he's trapped me. I am caught – tied – until I force him out of this time, and he _knows_ it now. Eternity and Sirius can only hold this time open for me for a while longer. If I use my power – even a little more then an ordinary mortal – well, the Immortals of this time will descend on me like vultures on the freshly deceased."

 _Yes, yes, I know that as well as you do – but if Death has sent that warning to you – then you must, with all due haste, seek Peter out and force Chaos to flee_. Anceps seemed unimpressed when Harry curled his fingers into a fist, the bones cracking in protest.

"If I dare do that, Anceps – there is the possibility that in my haste, I will make a mistake." Harry stated softly, sensing the range of possibilities that hovered in the distance like a dark cloud over the horizon that threatened more then a drizzle of rain with the coming storm.

 _Regardless, Keeper, something must be done_. Anceps insisted, rising up to catch Harry's eye – serpent and Immortal looked eye to eye, and it was Harry who looked away first. He sighed, and came to sit beside Anceps, who slithered over to rest his bulk in Harry's lap. Almost absentmindedly, Harry petted the snake, finding that it soothed him and Anceps.

"Your right, of course - tomorrow I will go with the students to Hogsmeade. I will confront Chaos there. Hopefully, what is left of Peter survives…" Harry resolved with a glance to the hourglass on the mantle of his fireplace.

 _Are you sure Dumbledore will allow that? He is already beginning to suspect there is something more to you then a pretty face and a talent for runes_. Anceps asked with a flick of his tail, huddling closer to Harry's warmth. Harry glared at the fire, his fingers clenching.

"He will have no choice in this." It was the voice of the Keeper of the Crossroads that rung in the silence that followed.

O.o.O.o.O.o.O

He was dreaming of flying.

Of the power in it – he could look down, peer over the edge of a clouds silver lining, and see all the places beneath him. He imagined he could rule all he saw, if he only had the power.

Powers over those beneath him – all of them were destined to crawl about in confusion on the Earth, unable to see the entire picture – and there he sat on the clouds, ruler of all he saw.

Of course, they would not see him as the ruler he truly was – not at first. No matter, he did not yet care to be openly acknowledged. He was content for now to hold the strings they hung like puppets from.

Then, quite unexpectedly – he lost control. What was once a pleasant summer day was now a raging storm brewing around him – within it he was lost, a bit of nothingness so much like the clouds that had surrounded him that his heart ached at the realization. Compared to whatever had brought the storm – Nature? A God or Goddess – or, far worse to his burnt pride – another Witch or Wizard, compared to that power that utter control he now marveled over in his greed…he was…

" _Insignificant worm – a merely boy standing in the shadows of giants_ …" It was hissed from the storm swelling around him. The very wind seemed against him.

"No – I am powerful, I can rule them!" Laughter all around him, echoing laughter so loud it was like thunder, so harsh it made his ears bleed.

" _You see now what would happen if you were left to your own devices – the very world you seek to rule would rebuke you_." Where before he had been dizzy, the wind carrying him this way and that, leaving him struggling – using all his power – merely to find a middle that would not pull him down to his death.

Just on the edge of his senses, where his sense of "self" bleed into everything else, he sensed the storms maker it's controller. Sensed that the maker of storms could throw him to the Earth he had thought to rule moments before. Sensed that the maker of storms could kill him easily – though the question was, why didn't he or she?

"What do you want?" He demanded then, tired of this game – tired of fearing.

" _What I want is what all things want. To live – a deal I propose to you, insignificant worm_." The air and wind calmed, so he cat in the eye of a storm, unmolested – free to breathe unhindered.

"What is the deal?" He asked cautiously – no one had yet called him a fool, and if ever he earned the name, it would not be today.

" _I will lend you my power – but you must seek out a man I am interested in meeting_." At the voices response, he raised his eyebrow partly feeling as if he was being asked to play the part of a matchmaker.

"What man?" He asked then, he was aware that his tone was hushed – for he knew, somehow, that a deal made here could not be broken – could not be taken back. Most especially if it was made by the unseen storm being.

" _The_ _one they call a Dark Lord. Tom Riddle by true name, Lord Voldemort by chosen_." There was a hint of amusement, though he saw nothing to be amused about.

"Oh – and who am I to tell him wants an audience?" His tone was sarcastic and he did not bother to curb it.

" _Why, my little Wormtail, none other then the Lord Chaos himself, Immortal_." All too fast – he was falling, falling to his death, and he could do nothing. Then, before he hit the ground his mortal body lay on, he stilled – saved, saved by none other then Chaos. Chaos who would not hesitate to kill little Peter if he did not do as Chaos bid him.

Waking in a cold sweat, Peter decided to do as Chaos asked. It would not be hard to find one of the Dark Lord's followers in Hogsmeade after all; there was always one there on the weekends Hogwarts let its students roam.

O.o.O.o.O.o.O

 _For the record_ , Anceps started snippily as he curled tighter around Harry's neck and torso for warmth, _I hate the cold – and I never agreed to go with you when you declared you'd go with these loathsome brats_. The only sign that Harry had heard him was the slight grin that lingered on his lips as he watched the retreating forms of students eager to be away from their peers and school teachers – if only for a few hours.

 _I'll keep that in mind, Anceps_ … Harry sympathized with the snake, but his mind was caught up in memories of his own remembered visits to Hogsmeade - that same sense of glee, that glazed the eyes of the students. Though those thoughts all but fled as his gaze set on Peter, who made excuses to the rest of the Marauders as he wandered away from the village.

With a cold feeling in the pit of his stomach, Harry followed soundlessly, pulling his Immortal power around him like a robe. That way, while the people would see him, they wouldn't feel the inclination to bother him.

He was obviously a teacher, obviously intent on rounding up one of the students; obviously not to be bothered. It was simply the way Immortals worked, rather then be "invisible" and create suspicion they excelled at being obvious, but someone you did not want to cross that day.

 _Not so fast_ …Anceps grumbled snottily, and though Harry ignored him, he found he had to stop anyway. Peter had come to the edge of town – there was a clearing between the edge of the town and where the forest begun. A gap which could be dangerous to tread, were he not careful.

 _What are you doing? Your going to loose him.._.Anceps pointed out unhelpfully, Harry wished there was a way to hush him, but concentrated on bringing his Immortal abilities to the forefront of his attention.

With them, he watched as Peter met a man just within the forest - a man in a white skull mask and black robes – a Death Eater.

Between pressed lips, Harry released his breath in a slow drawn out hiss; a fine tremble shuddered along his spine and limbs. He realized then, he was likely witnessing the turning moment for Peter, who would turn his back on his friends in favor of serving his Master.

The worst of it was…Harry was sure, that he could do nothing to alter the true timeline.

 _Wait, Keeper, wait and you can remove Chaos from him after this_ …If Anceps' words were supposed to make him feel any better, Harry reflected still observing coldly from afar the scene as Peter spoke with the Death Eater, they failed.

 _I am sorry for this_. Anceps murmured softly and there was white – blinding, building behind his eyes until it was all he saw. Harry trembled, trying to fight the white that was suddenly a throbbing _hurting_ thing building over him. Shielding him – or cutting him off from the world. He could do nothing – nothing worked against it – all too soon Harry found himself sealed in his own mind, his body working of its own accord as it slumped limply against the building.

Then Anceps took him to the middle of town, where he would be noticed – and taken back to Hogwarts, and put in the care of a nurse who controlled an all too familiar ward. Shielded and sealed in his own mind, Harry knew what Anceps had done was for the good of the timeline – but it didn't change the fact that he was absolutely _furious_ at the two headed snake.


	24. A Sacrifice of an Innocent

Between pressed lips, Harry released his breath in a slow drawn out hiss; a fine tremble shuddered along his spine and limbs. He realized then, he was likely witnessing the turning moment for Peter, who would turn his back on his friends in favor of serving his Master.

The worst of it was…Harry was sure, that he could do nothing to alter the true timeline.

 _Wait, Keeper, wait and you can remove Chaos from him after this_ …If Anceps' words were supposed to make him feel any better, Harry reflected still observing coldly from afar the scene as Peter spoke with the Death Eater, they failed.

 _I am sorry for this_. Anceps murmured softly and there was white – blinding, building behind his eyes until it was all he saw. Harry trembled, trying to fight the white that was suddenly a throbbing _hurting_ thing building over him. Shielding him – or cutting him off from the world. He could do nothing – nothing worked against it – all too soon Harry found himself sealed in his own mind, his body working of its own accord as it slumped limply against the building.

Then Anceps took him to the middle of town, where he would be noticed – and taken back to Hogwarts, and put in the care of a nurse who controlled an all too familiar ward. Shielded and sealed in his own mind, Harry knew what Anceps had done was for the good of the timeline – but it didn't change the fact that he was absolutely _furious_ at the two headed snake.

O.o.O.o.O.o.O

 _Being Sealed and Shielded in your own mind is a lot like being dead_. Harry thought, it was Saturday – he knew Anceps would not dare keep him like this longer then a day. Harry sighed – mentally – and wondered why it was, trapped in his own mind, that he couldn't get some sleep while said trapping was taking place.

"You surely are a sorry sight for a Keeper. I was expecting more." Harry's eyes opened, as he looked about in the white haze his vision had become. There stood what – or rather who- Harry had been hunting for. The man was dressed in armor; he had short cropped brown hair and dark delight shown in his brown eyes.

 _He likes this_ ; Harry thought as he looked the other up and down, _he likes playing the parts of cat and mouse_.

"What do you want here?" Harry asked then, finding he truly did want to know.

"All Immortals were mortal once – it's the soul that carries over. Immortal Souls, we were called in my time. But being the Between, that got me thinking – we aren't really immortal if our souls are mortal. So, you see Keeper – it's my intention to unmake you. That's why we are here in this place and time – your mother, little Keeper, has a Choice to make. Your father – or no, she is infuriatingly loyal." The man sneered and Harry felt the echo of fear – of pain – that that expression had ignited.

 _I must not give in to his whims of expression – if I do, I will give him power. Perhaps power over me_. Harry thought watching the man like a wary bird would a cat. Only Harry could not fly away – it was the link between Immortals that Chaos used so willfully, Harry had been trapped within his own mind, and Chaos had gone to taunt him.

"So, I've come to tell you – I've won, so far in getting Peter to join with the Dark Lord. He will be a puppet, perhaps a better one then you knew. But, you see, I've lost as well – at least at in getting you to interfere or in changing your mothers Choice. So we are on equal footing, you and me." Chaos acknowledged with a grim grin that did not bid well for Harry.

"I do not like being equal to anyone." Chaos hissed, and Harry felt as if something what choking him – desperately he called out within his mind to Anceps. He did not want to die like this…

"So, this is my challenge, Harry Potter – try to stop me. I've told you my intent to unmake you – the sands of time are running against you." Chaos seemed to flicker – and Harry wondered, for he could breath – he panted for breath and watched as two appeared on either side of Chaos.

"You are not welcome within his mind. This is not allowed – you should have known better." Justice spoke – looking down at Harry, then to the figure on the other side of Chaos.

"We will not allow you to harm him." Discord murmured softly, eyes narrowed on Chaos.

"Well if it isn't Death's little sister – how are you Justice? I am surprised at you – you were mine before you were Immortal, why not be mine again?" Chaos purred, and Justice's eyes narrowed in dislike. Chaos chuckled darkly.

"And Discord… still sticking your nose into what isn't your business, I see." Harry felt his head ache – it was really no wonder, there were three more Immortals then there were supposed to be in it. Chaos must have seen the pain – for Death's sisters did not miss it either.

"Leave, Chaos. Now." Justice demanded, Discord looked to Harry and took a step toward him. Harry saw how she wanted to go to him, and was confused by it – Chaos saw that as well. He smiled, delighted, though it was a smile that made Harry feel ill.

"I will make a deal, Sisters – you show him who you are, and I won't split his head open like a melon." Discord and Justice traded looks – Discord pleading, Justice seemed to understand.

What Harry saw then caused him to gasp – the two changed – became less, became alike a moral shell. Instead of the Justice and Discord he knew, he saw Nefertiri and Anck-su-namun. Chaos sneered, smirking at Anck-su-namun who was Justice – and Nefertiri who was Discord.

"Now, now, that is only your past-selves – show him what you look like now." Chaos purred, and they seemed to flinch, and changed again, more swiftly before. Evelyn and a woman he had never met stood before him – Evelyn…he blinked back tears – knowing that in order for her to be Discord, she had to die, and he hadn't seen that. It hadn't happened yet.

"Yes, very good – I think we've caused him enough pain." Chaos sneered down at him and he felt burning anger sweep through him.

 _Anceps – Chaos, he – help_ … Harry managed, for he felt Anceps listen, felt him tear through the Shield and Seal the Guardian had formed around Harry's mind. Then Chaos was gone – and Discord – Evelyn – brushed a hand through his hair, sympathy and kindness on her face. Then he fell unconscious when he felt them leave, felt Anceps cradle his mind – his soul – and whisper that he had failed and would let Harry have his way as Keeper.

Harry woke as Monday dawned, word had spread of what had happened between professor Ivy O'Connell and his rune familiar, though Dumbledore sympathized, he sent Harry off to his class. It was just as well, Anceps had not spoken a word, and Harry feared he never would, for he was cold against the skin of his forearm, which Anceps had curled about before. Harry worried, but he had so much buzzing about in his mind – he had to have answers from Discord and Justice, but to get them, he had to deal with Chaos.

O.o.O.o.O.o.O

Harry slouched at his desk, Anceps was playing wonderfully at being a bracelet – he was utterly silent and hadn't so much as twitched, and it made Harry feel rather fidgety – though he didn't really know why he felt that way, perhaps in sympathy.

He found himself sighing as Lily, the Marauders – and one Severus Snape, entered his classroom. Why it was Dumbledore insisted that just for his class – Ancient Runes at that - the six teenagers get together. Harry was of the opinion that it might be a form of revenge, though if it was …it was the ironic kind that bypassed timelines, like a sure arrow aimed at him.

He decided to blame the fact he was an Immortal.

"Open your books, and study them. There will be a test." Harry told them from behind gritted teeth. He couldn't help that his eyes wondered to Peter.

Harry wanted very badly to kill Peter. If killed, Peter would never betray the Light, if killed Peter would never serve the Dark Lord, if killed Peter would be mourned and could change things in a big way with his mere death.

He was fairly certain his attempt to smile looked more like a grimace. Harry firmly decided not to smile again, and watched with a sort of awed wonder as he was obeyed unquestioned.

Maybe things were going his way for once. It couldn't last. He had the feeling fate was saving up to punch him in the groin with getting rid of Chaos, in a way that would not influence the timeline. Mostly this was critical because if he screwed up even a bit, he might not be born, and while he was Immortal now, he had been mortal; so Chaos messing that up would be a major hit – a weakness he could not afford. He _had_ to be born, and he could not keep coming back to this timeline to make sure he was born.

Besides, it would get boring, making sure he was born. Maybe drinking would be funny the first few times, but it would get old – and match making never worked out well for him – and he could due without the image of his mother sucking face with Severus Snape.

As if summoned to speak by Harry's very thoughts, he heard the familiar austere tones of his student, who would become his potions professor, and his father's hated rival, but was already his mothers love interest. Things were never simple, but this was becoming ridiculous.

"…if you would let us see the unicorns…"

Harry blinked stupidly at Severus, and then considered what Severus had suggested at length. Unicorns, he remembered telling them that unicorns could nullify a runes effects or simply make them useless – remembered Nightmares which fed off a wizard or witch in sleep, which if a certain rune was used died because of life forced into it – and starved when that same rune was used to restore life.

He wondered if like with a rune, which had its ties to early Immortals – a part of Chaos – of an Immortal, could be nullified or destroyed with the touch of a unicorn. He turned to look down at Anceps – it was worth a try.

"Yes. I had quite forgotten, I've changed my mind on today's lesson plan, pack up your books – take your wands if you feel so inclined, but follow me." In surprise his students saw him leap up from his previously tired looking slouch and practically rush to the door, hurrying them along until they reached the edge of the Forbidden Forest.

There he bobbed on his heels, seemingly quite unaware of how odd he looked as he waited. Everyone knew a unicorn came to you – you did not summon one - surely they weren't expected to wait until one came to them? It could take hours. Days.

The students remained hushed, looking among each other and wondering if their professor had lost his sanity – they had heard of what happened on the weekend and knew that a familiar was forged of magic.

One such as Anceps, this was as they understood it – was forged from magic but animated by the runes which their professor seemed to be an expert on. Such a thing, a familiar of ancient runes, turning against him had to have had an obviously ill effect. Even Severus seemed more then a little worried.

Harry calmed himself, ridding himself of enough excess power to reach out and not stir a violent reaction. He closed his eyes, face to the forest and extended his mind like a net, looking for unicorns, though there were a great many creatures in the forest they shone from the rest like bright stars in the night sky. Likely, he know, this was because he looked for them with an Immortal's awareness.

 _Why do you seek us?_ Asked a voice, it was elder – and female, Harry found himself smiling to hear it.

 _Immortal Keeper am I, questions I have for you and your kith and kin_. Harry replied, pleased that it hadn't taken him long to find one who would speak to him. The elder waited, and Harry took a quick glance at his otherwise silent students.

 _Firstly, there are children – young ones, who I wish to greet you. They will behave; have my word as Immortal and Keeper_. That was not a vow to be taken lightly, and the weight of it seemed to fall over him all at once, when the elder female spoke again, he sensed knowledge of what he was that she had not seemed to show before.

 _Very well, I will send a part of my herd to come with me and met you and yours. Ask your questions now, you may_. Harry sighed in relief – there was a faint hope that she would help, but now, at least – he would not look so much like a fool.

 _Firstly, do you know of what haunts this timeline, that which is as unnatural as I, which I hunt?_ Harry asked, and her acknowledgement that she did, in fact, know, did not surprise Harry as much as it would have before he crossed into this timeline.

 _Chaos buds inside a child, he reaches out like a weed – the child will ever more be corrupted, but Chaos must be rid of. He is still held in the Between – restricted, for now. What do you will us to do Keeper, how can we aid you_? He could have cried out in joy and danced – he was not alone in this, there were others who could help. It was possible, had to be.

 _There have always been others, Keeper – magical creatures have long called Immortals brethren. You must be a young Keeper, not to know such things. Immortals protect us, and in return, we are your eyes and ears in the Mortal Realm. Now ask what you will_. He could feel that she was growing closer, and felt the group of stars still, coming closer. There were three.

 _What I ask I feel have no right to dwell on. Forgive me, but runes do not work around your kin – and runes are linked to the Immortal. I ask if it is possible for a part of what is an Immortal to be banished with your touch – like with the runes_. Harry felt her surprise, as she considered it.

 _I do not know, Keeper – we do not know. But if there is a way, Chaos must be weeded out, and we will aid you_. There was a ring of purity – of determination, and Harry felt the frailty of life and death from the unicorns. He opened his eyes slowly; he did not want them harmed. That had to be a reason Immortals so rarely associated with creatures – magical or not – that held that frailty of falling to death because of a choice made from the asking of the Immortal.

Then, there was no more time for wondering if he did the right thing, for they came into sight. There was a little gold baby, its hooves stood out from the ground as they were bright golden – it came forward wide grey eyes looking at the gathered Ancient Runes students, it's horn was a little knob on its head. There were gasps and soft murmurs from the students at the sight of the little one, but Harry had eyes for the two large ones.

Brilliant blue eyes caught and held his own. The blue darkened to black, and the white unicorn snorted, tossed its head and hovered near the foal. He felt as if he had been judged and found a friend, though barely. It was pure silver, tall and strong – a horn that seemed to catch all the light and color in the world and spill it form the curved horn that sprung from its head, and Harry knew it to be around four years old.

That left the last unicorn. She was lovely, huge and white, though rather then an intimating guardian she seemed to be motherly and soft looking and Harry found it nearly irresistible to not touch her. His fingers curved, imagining the silky strands of her white mane and tale against his skin – of the velvety softness of her hide. Her horn

Black and green eyes caught his own brilliant eyes, and it seemed to him that even though she had no facial expression, she still smiled. Her head bowed, the horn reflecting a deadly silver glint, it was an acknowledgement rather then an honor – he found himself bowing back. She came nearer to him, though the other adult stayed back while the foal danced among the students who did not need him to lecture to be careful – the intimating four year old brought that clearly in mind.

 _Can you tell which_? He asked her, fingers finding his cloak and burying them in it. She seemed to know instantly what he meant – the one Chaos had picked, Peter.

 _Yes, the taint of Chaos clings to him – it is a wonder you have let him live so long_. She shook her head seeming to disapprove of letting Peter live. He understood her, sympathized, but could not be swayed. Unicorns were pure creatures, if they saw something was wrong with another's nature, they could not be fooled. They – for all they were remarked as gentle and innocent – were bloody and violent when it came to preserving the nature of the world they saw.

 _I can not kill him, it would change things. Like my birth_. Her skin flinched, and she huffed in surprise.

 _Then let us rid the boy of Chaos' seed, and we will leave you to your Keeper duty_. She told him sternly, and he nodded in acceptance. Wondering what they had planned. Peter would not be fool enough to approach the elder unicorns, even the students did not go near.

It hit him then, as he watched the foal approach Peter, all wide eyed innocence, its sweet gentle nature pulling at Peter like sweets and honey.

 _No_! Harry took a step forward, and found the elder unicorns blocking his path. Before he could speak out – before he could command them away – the foal's nose touched the tips of Peter's reaching fingers.

He felt the pulse of raw power as Chaos fled, possibly the seed was dead, but he knew in that moment that it had fled this timeline – fled Peter's body. The foal jerked away, stunned – though it surely had known beforehand what would happen – with its jerk, it leapt for the Forbidden Forest, sprinting away, the white unicorn followed with a startled twisting jump. The elder unicorn still stood boldly in front of him.

 _Why_? Harry asked her then sorrow lingered in his accusing metal tone.

 _Why the young one? It was her choice, she knows how she will die – knows as you do. You saw her dead, in your future. This way, she feels her death will have meant something_. Harry's heart beat wildly in his chest; it ached, like a part of him had fled.

 _Meaning? You know she will not be able to bare children after this – will not_ …Harry shook – an innocent, he had wanted the aid of the elder unicorns – wanted them to banish Chaos – but the little foal had thrown her future away, to be rid of just a bit of Chaos. Harry knew then, he could never find it in himself to ask for aid among the magical creatures again.

 _It is well, Harry Potter – what is done should not be undone. The little one will live, though she has not the raw magical power necessary to breed, there are other things unicorns do_. The elder seemed amused at his pain, and he thought she might as well be – it was not like he had asked for help, and not that what was done was done, he could not turn it aside.

 _Give her my thanks, elder one; tell her if ever she is in need to summon me to her._ Harry asked, and she nodded once, and then took off into the Forbidden Forest. He thought then that it was aptly named, what was within should be Forbidden from the likes of Immortals.

He dismissed his class early, watching them go, and sighed looking down at Anceps. He was more then ready to go home.

 _Do you still refuse to speak with me?_ He asked the two headed snake, and felt pain at the thought, was the Guardian's refusal to acknowledge him another mark against him? He had done what was needed of him, was it not enough?

 _No, Keeper, I am proud, though angry with you that you tried to change what needs to be. Do you think so little of yourself?_ Harry closed his eyes in relief, and shook his head, not answering as he pulled himself into the Crossroads and closed the timeline behind him.


	25. A Journey Through Storm Brings A End

If a man does not embrace his past, he has no future." Death told Rick in undertone, gaining his attention.

Rick sneered, lip curling, though he said nothing he knew what Death wanted to talk about. Remembered clearly enough the look of guarded awe upon glancing at his tattoo, Rick turned to him, his eyes narrowed as he spoke. "Look, even if I'm some sort of sacred Ma-jei, what good does that do for me now?" Rick half hoped Ardeth, or Death – for really, being Immortal hadn't changed Ardeth fundamentally – had an answer that wasn't vague.

Death sighed, pulling at his reserve for patience and answered in a way that wouldn't infuriate Rick, yet hopefully get his point across. "It is the missing piece of your heart, if you embrace it, if you accept it, you can do anything." Death had no such luck, if the look of annoyance on Rick's features were anything to go by. Death soothed Horus, whose feathers ruffled in reaction to Death's temper. Death was finding it harder and harder to cope and react in 'the mortal way'; his power was being leached off him. He knew it – and could do nothing, or abandon Rick and Evelyn in the quest for their son – which Harry would never forgive him for.

"Listen, that sounds great, now what can you tell me about our old friend Imhotep?" Rick blundered on in asking, unaware of Death's thoughts. He looked out over the sky, it was a sight that reassured him – no matter what mortals did for good or ill, they could not match natures work. Using the power that linked Immortals, he felt Imhotep as the closest, which was far more telling in how much power Death had lost for Imhotep to feel alike an Immortal-his fingers clenched on the sword at his side, but he hid it, and if Rick saw it, he dismissed it – or showed more wisdom then he knew in not questioning it.

"His powers are returning quickly, by the time he reaches Ahm Shere, even the Scorpion King won't be able to stop him." Ardeth knew that much to be true, for the Scorpion King was as old as Death – at least – and though powerful, the Scorpion King could not stand against Death. Could not hope to stand against an Immortal who wielded the leached power of Death, even if he asked it of the Scorpion King, he doubted the two would clash longer then a day-if he were lucky.

O.o.O.o.O.o.O

Evelyn stared out at the sky; her hands were folded on the railing of the dirigible, her attention on the horizon, mist had settled over the desert, and as she watched the swirling mass beneath her, it seemed to call out to her to be heard. It was as if there was something breathtaking just beyond her sight, if she could only lift the veil, she would see. It was like being torn in two – a part of her was happy with her life, her loving husband, her child – a part of her wanted more, wanted to be apart of something greater whole that she had always been able to glimpse, as if it was something she could not look directly at, for fear it would vanish.

Clouds swirled about her, mist like – and she felt suddenly distanced from her body, as if something had pulled her from it. " **We will not allow you to harm him**." It was her lips that echoed those words – but those words were not entirely hers. She felt a connection then, the connection she had always felt – that she was something greater then mortal. Then, as if the realization was all that was needed, she saw.

What she saw terrified her, Harry lay sprawled at the feet of an opposing man – no, no more man then Harry or Ardeth – he too was something ancient – something Immortal. Bruises lingered on Harry's pale neck, and she wondered how Death would react to seeing Harry so. She suddenly did not want to know.

" **Well if it isn't Death's little sister – how are you Justice? I am surprised at you – you were mine before you were Immortal, why not be mine again**?" The man purred and for the first time, Evelyn noticed the shining woman who stood beside her. Sensed the familiarity between them, and knew she was not alone. Still, the man's tone annoyed her, and when she glanced back to him, her eyes were narrowed – though he merely chuckled darkly, amused at their annoyance and distaste. " **And Discord...still sticking your nose into what isn't your business, I see**." Evelyn's eyes met his, and there was a wicked delight in them, as if he realized something he had not before. Harry seemed to shudder then, and the very air flickered, as if in sympathy.

When Harry looked up, he looked dazed, but stubborn. " **Leave, Chaos. Now**." The Immortal beside her, Justice, demanded, Evelyn could not help but be distracted – for Harry seemed in so much pain, and she stepped toward him. Harry saw how she wanted to go to him, and was confused by it – Chaos saw that as well. He smiled, delighted, though it was a smile that made Evelyn like smacking him.

 **"I will make a deal, Sisters – you show him who you are, and I won't split his head open like a melon."** Evelyn looked to the Immortal woman – and as she traded looks with Justice – she realized so abruptly it stung, that she was Discord. _Help me; I do not know how to do what he wants._ Pleadingly, she looked to Justice who seemed to understand.

Justice's power – opposing to her own nature, yet similar, washed over her, she felt the connection with something that was greater and yet the same as her fade, become less, and she felt like her self again – mortal, and vulnerable.

She knew though – this was not Evelyn O'Connell's body – this was another, though familiar. Evelyn looked to Justice – or what had become Justice, and felt her heart pound. For who met her eyes was Anack-Su-Namun, wife of the Pharaoh Seti...

O.o.O.o.O.o.O

Blows were traded, equal in every step and intensity, suddenly she felt herself fall, and lifted her mask to meet her attacker eye to eye. Anack-Su-Namun lifted her own mask with a sneer,speaking in ancient Egyptian that they were not done and it would be best to put her mask back on so not to scar her 'pretty face'. Rivalry flared and she leapt to her feet, determination renewed...

O.o.O.o.O.o.O

Evelyn heard Harry gasp, breath catching in his throat, and wondered which of them was the most surprised – Evelyn who saw a mix of sister and rival before her, and beneath the surface of it all was ancient familiarity, they were two sides of a coin – and had since their mortal births cared only for each other. What had changed? Evelyn wondered why did Anack-Su-Namun who was Justice, side with Imhotep instead of her own Immortal sister. The answer Evelyn found made her chest ache in sympathetic sorrow to Justice, who she knew Discord-herself – had forgiven once Death had taken them both.

O.o.O.o.O.o.O

Nefertiti watched as Anack-Su-Namun lowered her eyes to Imhotep, telling him without words of her feelings. Though it was Nefertiti's father she sat beside, in horror it dawned in her that Anack-Su-Namun had fallen in love with him. It was forbidden, Nefertiti turned to the stranger who sat beside her – Harry, and asked him to accompany her to her rooms. Together, they saw Imhotep slay her father – slay Anack-Su-Namun/Justice, which made rage echo within Nefertiti in sympathy with Discord who was caged, aware only of her sister's demise, within Nefertiti's own soul. Her revenge had been swift to Imhotep, and her rage had even caught Harry within her snare. It was in her nature.

O.o.O.o.O.o.O

Evelyn blinked back tears, and saw Anack-Su-Namun – her sister in heart, and Justice acknowledge the pain – forgive it. She only hoped Harry was so willing to forgive her unfocused rage. " **Now, now, that is only your past-selves – show him what you look like now**." Chaos stated, reminding them of his presence, Evelyn knew how to change now, and did so, Justice matching and mimicking her pace so it was done neatly – cleanly. A moment of harmony that both treasured.

She was Evelyn – and she met Harry's eyes and saw his sorrow – and while she knew why, she did not fear. She knew that while she was Discord, she could not truly be Immortal until her death – and Harry now knew he had to let her die. He sorrowed, and she ached, but knew as long as she was Discord, it would never truly be the end.

" **Yes, very good – I think we've caused him enough pain**." Chaos sneered down at him, and Discord and Evelyn were one in their hate of him. It was Chaos who had lured a mortal – Imhotep, to loving Justice – it was for him that Justice had placed herself on opposing sides with Death, for she had wanted her love returned to her, still wanted him.

Harry shook – and it felt like the world around them echoed him, and as Evelyn watched it was as if the world became static, fading in and out, thought that were not hers clung to her. It was then she realized, she was within Harry's mind – and though Harry was under such stain, he did not throw them out – Chaos flickered out of existence, and she ran to Harry, cradling him to her.

Shakily, fearing she would never see him alive again, she brushed a hand through his hair, he looked at her, recognized her – and then Meela placed a hand on her shoulder, and she knew she had to let him go or loose him forever. She let him go, though it was the hardest choice she had ever made. Meela–no, Justice took her to someplace elsewhere. "This is our Realm – that of the Immortals, we are its peoples – we are within the Hall of Balance...our home." Justice told her for she saw the questions lingering within Discord's mortal eyes.

"I have brought you here, Sister, because soon I – or rather Meela, will die. Imhotep will unknowingly place my Immortal soul within Meela – for it was his hope to bring back Anack-Su-Namun, who I am as much as she is me. I will see to it that when Imhotep goes within the pyramid, he is without his powers – Evelyn will die, and when she is brought back it will be as Discord. Death will likely not be pleased, but even I sense the power flowing from him into Imhotep, but Death is stubborn and will not flee into the Immortal Realms until there is no other choice. I intend to shape Imhotep into my Immortal consort, Law. He shall be beneath me in power, but still Immortal. If you add me in this, my dear Discord, I will add my power with yours to bend and blur the lines of chance, because of the blessing Death gifted to yours – we will make your Rick into our unified Champion of Balance – and your child into Strife. Tell me now before it is too late – are we in accord?" Justice pleaded, and neither Discord nor Evelyn could deny her, and only nodded, speechless, in agreement. "And of my brother, Jonathan?" Evelyn found it in herself to ask.

"Leave him to me." Justice begged, and Evelyn nodded, and then felt cold as she was yanked away from the Immortal Realms. Her soul lurched within her, and the reaction of her body was to lunge foreword, with a cry of terror at facing a messy death, she clung to the dirigible, and preyed.

Rick and Ardeth – Death, came to her, and as Death pulled her up she thought she saw recognition settle over his gave. Though it was silly – as she knew what she was and the Immortal power she had, she clung to Rick, still shaky. "What did you see?" Death asked, knowingly.

"Chaos – somehow he has...awoken enough to use the paths that bind one Immortal to another, he confronted Harry in this way – I was there...as Discord, and Justice – she...she was there as well." Evelyn confessed, and his eyes widened, silver glazing over them for a moment in his fury. He held to it, commanded it, and Evelyn was grateful she had told him what she had. She – as Discord, knew Death's fury and that if he thought she hid something, he would pursue it.

"Chaos...Discord? Justice? Evelyn, you're not making any sort of sense..." Rick murmured softly into her hair, his confusion giving way to fear.

"I'm afraid she is, Rick – there are things I have not told you – that I am Death, and Immortal – you do know; that Harry is the Keeper, and also Immortal – you know, what you do not know is that Immortals have mortal souls. No Immortal can stop their soul from being reborn – Evelyn has an Immortal soul. I know her as Discord – and with her sister, Justice, who you know as Meela and Anack-Su-Namun, they keep the Immortal Hall of Balance – what makes them sisters is that always the two's Immortal souls are reborn in a body that lives at the same time as the other." Death explained, whisper soft, so only Rick, Evelyn, and Jonathan could hear. Jonathan raised an eyebrow, tilted his head, and frowned.

"Well what about us mortals with mortal souls – what makes us so different from the Immortals?" Jonathan asked surprising them, for it was a good question that neither of them had thought he would ask. Death, though, did not look surprised that Jonathan would be the one to ask.

"Immortals can die but only in these ways – by passing on their power, or killed by another Immortal. It happens rarely, but for the Keepers, they often do not live long, but it is they who walk the Between, who can walk the Crossroads and Realms unafraid, for the Arches protect them. All Immortals souls are reincarnated, which lets us retain our power – sometimes an Immortal shows special interest in their mortal half, most of the time we go on with our duties; and it is this – to protect our world and all it's realms from being affected by other worlds, without the Immortal, our world would be defenseless from them. As for the mortal souls – they do not simply pass on to a religious underworld, at times they pass through the Between and into another world, at times they are reborn on this one – other times they simply fade, in peace, within my Realm, though I guard it, I do not dictate where a mortal soul goes after that – it is it's own Choice." Death stated softly, as if wondering if they would believe him.

Evelyn did, but that did not stop Rick from narrowing his eyes. "You spoke of Chaos, Evelyn – and of Harry, who is Chaos?" At that question, Death glanced away, reluctant to speak.

"Chaos in its own Immortal nature is not always evil, or good – but this one was evil natured even before he became an Immortal. Death loved him, and what was done in the Immortal Realm, we were largely ignorant of. Then...he did something unforgivable, and we put him in the Between, unwilling to have someone Chosen to become Chaos anew; unwilling to allow him free reign. It should have been a prison until the end of time – but the Between is not always predictable, and he now has awoken enough that Chaos can use the mental paths between the Immortals to communicate. He chose Harry because somehow, he was trapped in his own mind at the time – but he is alright now." Evelyn reassured Death, who had paled at the new knowledge.

Then Evelyn felt it, as Death started to ask a question – felt Meela die, and Justice forced into the body of a mortal. It left her weakened and she felt darkness claim her, taking her to where she could rest, unconscious even in her sleep so not even an Immortal could waken her. Death saw Rick and Jonathan hover over Evelyn worriedly, and wondered why he was not more concerned.


	26. In Which Justice Is Awakened

_"Chaos in its own Immortal nature is not always evil, or good – but this one was evil natured even before he became an Immortal. Death loved him, and what was done in the Immortal Realm, we were largely ignorant of. Then…he did something unforgivable, and we put him in the Between, unwilling to have someone Chosen to become Chaos anew; unwilling to allow him free reign. It should have been a prison until the end of time – but the Between is not always predictable, and he now has awoken enough that Chaos can use the mental paths between the Immortals to communicate. He chose Harry because somehow, he was trapped in his own mind at the time – but he is alright now." Evelyn reassured Death, who had paled at the new knowledge._

_Then Evelyn felt it, as Death started to ask a question – felt Meela die, and Justice forced into the body of a mortal. It left her weakened and she felt darkness claim her, taking her to where she could rest, unconscious even in her sleep so not even an Immortal could waken her._

_Death saw Rick and Jonathan hover over Evelyn worriedly, and wondered why he was not more concerned._

O.o.O.o.O.o.O

Meela feel a chill air stir, alike a draft, glanced toward where she had led two men to their deaths. Where Imhotep, her beloved of a pervious life, likely lay, recovering from draining the life and soul from those who had been goaded, with fright, into ignoring the engraved warning upon the box which held the jars containing the only remains of who Meela had once been in a previous life.

Though she did not even know what her name had been, which only Imhotep would remember, she felt the same connection to him that she supposed had always lingered between them.

Imhotep, whole and a flesh and blood man now, stood in the doorway. She went to him, unable to help herself in her craving to be near, to touch him. The train they rode upon lurched to a sudden stop, she snarled in her thoughts – that _boy_ – it was a moment, and then she felt herself falling, but Imhotep held her, smiled grimly down at her. Then his eyes fixed on where the boy had ran off to – ruins.

Shots went off, though she had warned them _never_ to fire upon the boy – but Imhotep took care of it. He gestured, and their weapons – and even they, flew up, unable to help themselves. He motioned his hands, and they were flung forward into ancient pillars. That was true power, the power people had wielded when ancient gods still thrived. It enthralled her, captivated; she followed after him as she went after the boy.

Watched him walk on water, and hold the boy by his power – his life held captive by her beloved. He spoke, and she did not hear the words, but the meaning. It was a challenge, the boy could do better – his parents had done better then he, and if he could not meet them, Imhotep did not consider the boy worthy of his parents name.

Meela knew then, that despite needing him until they reached Ame Shere, he would kill the boy, once his use had run out. Meela felt her throat, closing her eyes with that thought – that power, used to kill.

Then Imhotep left, the boy safely in the hands of Lock-Nah. Meela found herself surprised at the speed which night fell in the desert from dusk, and wondered if it had always been so – wondered if she dared to ask Imhotep such a question. It was then, as if summoned by her thoughts, that Imhotep appeared, and beckoned her forward to the pool which he had held the boy over before, where she had seen him walk on water.

It was stranger now, somehow more in the night then what it had been in the harsh light of day, she was surprised to see the mist had crept over the pool, spilling over like steam. Imhotep settled himself by it, no more then an arms reach of it – and she, following his example, sat beside him.

Meela felt then as she had on the train, enclosed – trapped; for all that she sat beside Imhotep in the open night air. Struggling for calm, she dared to ask Imhotep the question she had wondered as night had took the land.

"Has it always been so, that night takes swiftly after dusk touches the sands?" Meela knew she sounded romantic and silly, like a girl, but she wanted Imhotep to think her worthy of being the reincarnation of the one he had once loved.

 _Perhaps_ , she thought with a flutter of hope, _Imhotep will love me now as he did before_. It was not to be, for even as he spoke his next sentence, he planned to bring forth his true love - Anck-su-namun.

"Soon you will know, as Anck-su-namun knew this." Imhotep spoke, his accented English charming to hear, until the truth in his own words touched her, a thrill of fear danced along her skin, thought she did not recognize it for truth.

"I _am_ Anck-su-namun." Meela declared with narrowed eyes, Imhotep's dark eyes met her own.

"Not yet, but you will be." Then she felt pain, choked for breath as something – power – seemed to reach within her like a hand and jerk her from her own body, flinging her into the pool which bubbled like tar, and sucked her into its depths before she could so much as gasp in pain. What she knew blurred, she saw herself standing in front of her. She looked confused, and Meela was glad she was not the only one.

Then, with a dismissive shrug the other stepped forward to embrace her. Then she realized, as she blended with the other, becoming one – realizing as they blended that the dreams and nightmares they had shared had been real, and she was more then she had ever been before – more then even Imhotep knew.

In that moment, she realized the awful truth – she had been bait. This was a trap for the greater whole of herself, a trap for Justice-Meela-Anck-su-namun. Then, like a fish pulled from the stream, she was hooked and dragged from this place she had known, into the body of a mortal, when she was so much more then mortal.

Her lungs stung as she used them, her blood was too loud in her hears – her heartbeat shook her, her bones ached with gravity, and skin stung with sand and air. She was aware only of Imhotep, her beloved of two lives, holding her securely; unaware of the awful truth of what he had done to her.

Her lips pressed together, swallowing the scream that threatened.

O.o.O.o.O.o.O

In the early light of dawn, Ardeth thanked Death for a safe journey – and the ground beneath his feet. Though it was not under good circumstances that they found Alex gone, and the only clues were an hourglass, the sands running out - which was evident for its message.

Time was running out, and it was likely that which Imhotep found amusing. They would be behind him, no matter how fast they arrived to the next clue Alex had crafted in the sand. Ardeth knew that such a hint could not have been left without the knowledge of Imhotep. He was goading them along, teasing them into a chase, which, Ardeth knew – Imhotep would take care to ensure they lost.

Clue after clue they followed, until they reached a maze of caverns, below flowed waters that seemed not to know where they were going. It was then Horus shrieked a warning, Ardeth looked to see a wall of water, the face of Imhotep screamed out of it. The others did not have to be warned of the coming danger, for they had glanced to see what had stirred the normally calm falcon.

Time and place blurred, water choked him, until he felt as he plummeted to the ground, fell against it, struggling he freed himself of the cloth that made up the dirigible. It was then he realized how much trouble they were in, as Horus settled on his arm – tugging at his hair as if it were his own fault for what had happened – when Rick began to argue with Izzy about filling this "balloon" as it ran on gas, not hot air…

Horus gave a soft chirp, catching Harry's attention – his tongue felt caught in his throat when he glimpsed Harry, who stumbled a bit, as if gaining back his balance. Just as well the others had not yet noticed his sudden appearance as he had, after all, shadow walked to their location.

"Harry…" Ardeth's soft call caught their attention, and their reactions were mixed- from Izzy's confused puzzlement, Evelyn's delighted smile, Rick's grinning nod, and Jonathan's smirking.

"I knew you couldn't leave us high and dry." Jonathan's pun received a good natured shove from his sister, though Jon' privately thought it worth it to hear Harry laugh. Ardeth likely would have agreed had he not caught Harry in a hug and for the first time since parting allowed himself to relax.

Roughly, he kissed the other on the brow – the cheeks, and finally on the lips with tongue, until Rick cleared his throat. It only brought to mind his need to inform his decedents of finding Ame Shere. Horus preened while Harry gently stoked its soft under feathers.

Ardeth swiftly wrote out a message, tucking it into the metal message carrier then aiding a grumpy Horus into flight. He watched as Horus flew out of sight, only then did he look again to Harry, who smiled, and though he knew he had a lot between now and when they would be safe, somehow it seemed as if they could do it – that it wasn't as impossible for them all to be alive at the end of this as he had thought.

Then, he flinched, hearing a shot ring in the air – Ardeth looked quickly to the air, not seeing Horus he felt fear fill him. Harry touched his shoulder, knowing this would affect him poorly.

"Horus…? Horus!" Ardeth called, his heart lurched within his chest, his air felt as if it was choked off, Death stirred, then receded knowing he was safe and Harry was beside him. Horus did not reappear, when Ardeth took unconscious steps toward the walls of earth that surrounded him, it was Rick that stopped him.

"They must be warned!" Ardeth spoke past his emotions, for he knew it was the truth – Rick got in his way, resisting when Ardeth attempted to move past him – holding him here when no one else would have, though Rick didn't know his power was dwindling, that all that held him here was his descendents and their belief in him.

"Wait- Ardeth, I need you – my son needs you. Please, Ardeth – help us!" Rick yelled, calling him back to the here and now. Ardeth did not remember ever having found a more worthy friend and fellow warrior then in Rick. It gave him paused, made him listen where he would otherwise have moved ahead. After a long pause, where he glimpsed the desperation upon the faces that surrounded him, Ardeth relaxed, and – slowly, nodded his understanding.

"Very well, my friends - I shall stay by your side until we find your son." Ardeth agreed, Rick's shoulders slumped with relief and it was then he felt how far they had come from when Rick and he had first met, and Rick had let him do something "suicidal" for the greater good. Those days of going it alone were no more, now he knew that something bound them together – something Immortals did not have a name for. He had thought of it as companionship – or, rather - a brotherhood born between warriors during battle, but that was not all of it.

Ardeth was not sure of what it was, but he kept within a short arms length of Harry, wary of whatever dangers Ame Shere had, which he had not been nearly so concerned with before. Night fell, and they set a trap for Imhotep and his followers, then –all they had to concern themselves with was waiting. When Ardeth volunteered to scout the area, and Harry went with him, no one questioned it.

Ardeth led Harry into a grove of trees, within shouting distance, knowing they could not afford to wander off and leave the others utterly, not even for a moment of pleasure. Harry wrapped his arms around his lovers waist, inhaling the others scent then snuggling his cheek against Ardeth's neck as he sighed out his contentment.

Ardeth brushed his fingers, feather light, along Harry's cheek, kissing along the soft skin of jaw and along his neck. Ardeth felt Harry shiver around him, whimpering softly into his ear.

"Want you." Harry murmured huskily, nibbling his ear teasingly. Ardeth's swiftly indrawn breath was the only warning Harry had before Ardeth pulled away carelessly tugging off his garments, while Harry watched with hungry eyes that ran along his lovers body. Ardeth undid the tie to his pants, feeling them slide down his legs, he still wore his loose tunic, though his robe had been hastily taken off.

Ardeth's dark eyes met his lovers, and Harry's teased him, flicking his tongue out to moisten his own lush lips. Ardeth motioned him closer, and when Harry knelt before him on his robe, not meeting his eyes as he removed his cloak and showed he wore nothing beneath it, Ardeth felt himself groan as Harry's eyes met his, needy – begging.

Tentatively, Harry laid his face against Ardeth's thigh, waiting permission – waiting until Ardeth's control peeled away bit by bit, teasing. He could take no more waiting, and firmly gripped Harry's hair, strands of the wild mane escaping between his fingers, pushing Harry's lips against his groin, he felt those lips quirk into a grin before his lovers mouth opened and lips teased against his cock while a tongue played along his shaft.

His knees buckled and his quick intake of breath was all Harry needed to know that Ardeth, lost in his pleasure, could not support his own weight. Harry, stronger then he looked, helped to ease Ardeth onto the ground, legs spread with Harry nestled snugly between them, bringing him to climax only to snatch the breath from his lips a moment later as Harry kissed him demandingly, his own fluid going down his throat when he swallowed.

Ardeth felt Harry's groin along his thigh, hard and aching, though Harry would not ask him to satisfy his own needs when his lover had been the one to bring him, moaning, to completion. Somehow it was easy, panting shallowly beneath Harry, to ask his lover to take him.

"Are you sure?" Harry asked, to be sure, whisper soft even as his lips sucked along the smooth column of his beloved's throat, licking and teasing the flesh of his ear lobe. Ardeth could not help but shudder, even knowing that Harry did this on purpose to distract him with light touches along his thighs and buttocks, which made him shiver and whimper softly beneath Harry. Ardeth felt his already frayed control slip, and rather then hold tight to it, and he let it fall from his grasp.

"Yes…" It was not everyday that the proud Ma-jei would let himself be dominated, Harry looked aside, breath catching in his throat at the wonder of what he knew would now happen.

To tease Harry, Ardeth brought his lovers hand to his mouth, slipping his smallest digit into the warmth of his own mouth. Harry gasped, closing his eyes tightly as he breathed out shakily, as Ardeth nipped and licked at his fingers, playing with him until all he could hear was the rush of blood pounding through his ears, his heartbeat quickening in his eagerness. With eyes closed, all Harry could do was feel – and smell, suddenly his senses played upon memory bringing his own musky scent and mixing it with the spice that was his lovers own scent, exotic – uniquely them. Ardeth's breathing was already ragged, eager; for all that he had not even touched himself – or his beloved.

"Ardeth…" Harry warned suddenly, voice tight with his control. His eyes met his lovers, held them, and then Ardeth nodded in consent and acknowledgement, Harry took his slick fingers, playing them along his lovers crease feeling the muscles of his inner thighs tighten, knowing intimately the power the one who he straddled wielded. Harry let himself breath, touching his lover with his other hand, tracing the line of hair that went from navel to groin, enjoying the feel of his lovers hand tangled in his hair – of Ardeth watching him with half closed eyes, more relaxed then he had glimpsed him for far too long. It was, Harry realized, the peaceful moments like these that he treasured.

Ardeth squeezed himself around his digits, and Harry caught his breath in his throat, glancing to see the eagerness in the dark eyes beneath him. No words were needed as Harry slicked his own groin and moved so he straddled his lover, feeling clumsy and insecure, Harry touched his shaft to his lovers entrance, trying to ignore the heat that hazed his mind and the breath that came too quick to control as he eased into his lover, watching his face carefully to see if their was any hesitation or twinges of pain, for he knew without Ardeth saying a word that the elder would not tell him if he did not want to go on for a moment, for Ardeth was too proud to admit such.

Then, with a guttural sound that was more alike a growl then anything, Adeth gripped his hips bruising, forcing Harry to move within him. Harry felt himself flush – though he could not have said why – and let Ardeth control his movements, feeling oddly comfortable being controlled, even when he was the one supposed to be dominating the other. Moving got easier, but Ardeth kept the same pace, though his breathing was harsh and he moved his hips beneath Harry – he could feel Ardeth's hardness pressed to his navel, firm and hot.

Harry moved unexpectedly and all gentleness was brushed aside with a rough kiss – demanding and possessive all in one – Ardeth inhaled and breathed out shakily, Harry felt the wet heat of his lover against his belly even as he shook, clutched tightly to Ardeth, coming within his lover. Ardeth soothed him, petting his hair and with gentle touches encouraged him to dress both of them; it was then they spoke, slowly and haltingly, of what had happened since they had left each other – and of what might happen in the near future that might change in the day ahead.

O.o.O.o.O.o.O

"Do you think they really are out there… _scouting_?" Evelyn asked putting a certain empathies on the word, the reactions varied to the man on either side of her, Rick chuckled, his arm warm around her shoulder.

"Not a chance." Jonathan stated with a soft snort, shaking his head in amusement. When Ardeth and Harry returned, sometime later, neither of the three said anything, though significant glances were exchanged.


	27. A Mummy Who Should Know Better

Night had settled over the land, it seemed to be utter blackness, where if it were anywhere else in the world, likely at least the stars would be seen. This was not true of Ame Shere, such as this reflected the true nature of a thing.

Stars were flicking out, the world turned its features from the sun, all this was natural – what was not was that this place was a Immortal's and even among their own kind trespassing was not held well – less so would be the kindness of one of the old Immortals that slept on, unaware Gods.

"We can not do this alone." Harry told them, his eyes on the fire which sputtered and spat bits of flame. Evelyn, who dared to sit on his other side, drew in a breath, startled to hear him say this so plainly. Harry's lips quirked, for he remembered very well the Egyptians had been the one to curse Imhotep and leave him the guardian of what they had created. It seemed responsibility fell on his shoulders if he liked it of not, no matter, he held power and power called to the artifacts which protected, as well as those that destroyed.

' _A very poor guardian I make_ ….' Harry thought ruefully, his thoughts once more turning to the Gates. Ardeth – or Death – for it made no difference of what name the one who loved him was called, stirred, his eyes narrowing only so slightly as if he sensed his thoughts.

"We have little choice, Harry, but to do this alone." Rick told him matter-of-factly, in that moment Harry longed for Hermione – for Ron, for those he had given up as part of a sacrifice to rid the world of a Dark Lord. Now he faced something worse, and felt just as he had then.

"There, you are wrong; I have the Gate-Keepers to call upon." What he did not say was that doing so would let the Archs be unguarded; anything could slip through from the Immortal or Underworld Realms. Such a move would be sensed by the Immortal – all, even Imhotep – would know he would do what he could to keep this event from waking the slumbering God-like Immortals, from turning the Mortal to the Supernatural, from having the dead and darker things within it stir in the Underworld.

"You are the Keeper." Ardeth told him, saying what Death would not, that if this was his choice to make for Harry, he would not have him do this.

"You are right, I am. Below, in that field of grass, will be where Imhotep will make his way through. It appears the easiest, though it is in truth the most dangerous," Harry paused then, thinking of Justice trapped within the mortal flesh and blood of Meela, merely because of a fragment of Anck-su-namun which would not break from her Immortal nature, "the Greeks warned of creatures, pygmies which they thought of as Egyptian dwarves, they told of a girl-child who walked among them, they worshiped her as a Goddess, they say Hera learned of this, and turned the girl into a crane, this long beaked, long legged bird searching through grasses murdered them, and when Hera thought the pygmies had learned their lesson, she left them alone. The girl stayed a crane, and so that's how a war between men no bigger then the height between fist and elbow came to conflict with cranes annually as the Nile flooded." Harry looked down at his arm, swallowing, for they had to know what they were to face.

"There is one other story of pygmies among the Greeks, they boast their hero Heracles rested upon the banks of the Nile, and when the pygmies came they were confused with his name and thought his identity a alley of their enemy Hera, besieged him as we might a city, with ladders and needle like swords, when Heracles woke he gathered them up in his lion-skin, carrying them to the palace of Eurystheus. They were supposed to be the only thing this king did not fear, it is said he thought them too small. He should have feared them." Harry mused, even as they watched the woodlands below fill with torch fire, seeming to hang in the air as they watched and knew they moved toward them and the trap in the grasslands.

"Among the Egyptians," Evelyn mused softly, catching Harry's eye, "there is a dwarf god, who presides over pregnancy, children, and the protection from harm in waking and sleeping worlds. Bes is a strange god, for he is always depicted with a snarling bearded face with short stature and large belly…he has always seemed odd to me, for the Egyptians had lovely and terrible gods, but none without an animal as he is."

"So, you think that pygmies are real – and you," Jonathon nodded to his own sister who raised an eyebrow, "think he is right and imply the Egyptians made what they should fear into something that protects them?" Evelyn nodded, and Rick stirred uneasily remembering the last time Evelyn had spoken of ancient beings and mummies and been right.

"Well, that's just bloody _brilliant_ , isn't it? What are we going to do about Imhotep – and the pygmies?" Jonathon added with a sideways glance to the grasslands, men stood at the fringes of the forest, looking over the darkened land.

"I summon them, they will come, and do as we ask, rather then have them go about this and get in each others way. They are trying to protect this land, and we are trying to get Alex, there is no reason that for a moment we can not work together." Harry allowed, even though he got a disgruntled glance from Rick, Evelyn nodded in agreement. That was all it took, their consent, for Harry to wrap his power into a call pulling at the pygmies that watched them from the forest surrounding them.

"Hello there, little guy." Jonathon all but cooed to one, it smiled all sharp teeth and snarling lips, Jonathon decided abruptly not to say anything more. A handful clustered uncomfortably about Harry, calling to him in musically sharp voices.

"I need aide," Harry admitted, seeming to understand the hissed and whistled words though the others could not, "there is a child I seek, among those men. They have taken him, unwilling, among them. Fetch him back for me, and I will do what I can to keep this place from being destroyed." Harry promised, and it seemed to mean much to the pygmies for there was bobbing of heads and little bows.

One, who they took to be the leader, cried out, calling the others attention as he waved his spear in the air threateningly, there was a great cheer like a rustle of wind, and without a whisper of movement – if they had blinked, they would have missed it – the pygmies, dozens of them, stirred in the forest and grass. Though the group sensed no movement, there was a certainty about the fact that the pygmies had moved into the long grass.

O.o.O.o.O.o.O

"What will you do next?" Rick asked of Harry, though his eyes were on Ardeth, they all three knew that Ardeth had to summon his people, or else there would be no chance of holding off the Army of Anubis. Evelyn and Jonathon traded glances, knowing that they'd like to have Harry and Ardeth by their side in this.

"I will seek the Gate-Keepers aid; do not be alarmed – Evelyn, Jonathan, while the pygmies can distract the men, they will not get Alex alone; Ardeth and Rick must go into the grasslands." Harry acknowledged, Ardeth gave him a slight nod and left the fire side heading into the tall grass, Rick rolled his eyes somewhat annoyed with how easy it had been for Harry to change the subject, but going alongside Ardeth to back him up – and get his son back safely.

Evelyn and Jonathon watched with some curiosity as Harry sat, barely breathing, as he stared into fire. They had the urge to look away, for this was not natural, a body without a soul – a life – a person, should not still be alive. Yet, Harry was alive, breathing, though he was literally somewhere else. The first clue to where he had gone slithered by them with a soft hiss that sounded like a reassurance. The all black snake had two heads.

Two gold hounds, weight high, came out of the shadows. Their eyes gleamed in the dark, but they seemed content to lean their heavy weight against Harry, panting contently. A soft whinny caused the siblings to turn their heads to the sky, _flying_ above them in lazy circles were two silvery white horses which had seemed to come from the moon itself.

Harry opened his eyes then, taking in the sight of the five creatures, he could not help but smile, even as Evelyn shuddered to hear the alarmed and panicked wails of the people trapped below among the pygmies – her husband, and Ardeth.

O.o.O.o.O.o.O

 _Where would you have us go_? Anceps asked with wary regard to the two mortals beside him. Harry could not spare attention for the battle below if he was to protect those who he wished no harm to come to.

 _You hounds know mortals best, you will see to the safety of Evelyn and Jonathon_. One of the golden beasts tucked its head beneath Harry's hand where he absentmindedly petted it; the other hound licked his chin only once before tucked itself beside Evelyn with a soft _woof_ of greeting. For his part, though Jonathon was alarmed at the golden dog sitting beside him, he did not say anything.

 _As for the winged horses, one will see Ardeth safely to his people – and back to me – while the other is to watch over Alex and Rick_. Harry felt right about that choice, and Anceps pressed its weight to his thigh, telling in not so many words that Anceps would see to Harry's safety, if no one else world.

Harry closed his eyes, through the protectors of the Gates; he would see the battle that would be shortly over with….

O.o.O.o.O.o.O

With a fold of wings, and an angle of body to go downward, one of the winged horses silently stood beside Rick – who had spun around expecting to see an enemy – and Alex who was faced with the silvery white hide of the winged horse with awed eyes, Rick was less enthusiastic.

"We're supposed to ride _that_?" Rick muttered with a tone of disbelief, none the less when the great head nodded the jewels and little stones in its mane became apparent, and rather then argue, Rick only grumbled as he set Alex on its back, and awkwardly got on after. Within three beats of its wings, it was airborne, and taking them swiftly to elsewhere.

Rick looked back only once, and would have cried out a warning for Ardeth – who was about to be shot – when Jonathon's firearm sounded. Ardeth nodded his head and thanks, just as another of the white winged horses settled on the ground beside him with a soft huff with the air of one impressed.

"Dad – dad, we're going the wrong way…!" Alex cried out as they headed to the edge of Ame Shere, Rick was jerked from his musings holding to Alex even as the boy struggled. Cleverly, the winged horse lowered its distance to the ground, least Alex fall off.

"I have to be in the pyramid on the seventh morning of the seventh day, or I die!" Alex all but yelled, cold dread filled Rick and the only relief was that the winged horse seemed to understand his son's words, and needed no prodding to go the other way.

For with a mere tilt of wing tip, it was a streak of white against the darkness, the coming dawn racing the winged horse to the golden pyramid. Rick noticed the lather as it moved its legs as if running to gain even more speed, even so it seemed to fall, loosing flight as its hooves stirred sand, kicking it up as it arched its wings and flicked them inward with every movement of hoof and leg. It seemed to trip on nothing….

It fell then, to the ground, and arched up again before they could move onward or think to get off; it was bounding over the sand, powerful muscles working in its legs even as it held its wings on either side of father and son, so they would be secure and not jostled off. The horizon sun on its heels, at a full gallop it entered the pyramid, only to trot tiredly out triumphantly, held proudly erect and wings held limp against its sides. Only then did Rick notice it was lathered, like a true horse would be, and bled where sand hand cut into the soft flesh above its hooves.

' _It's…they are - mortal, in this place._ ' Rick realized, a surge of fear making his heart sick.

O.o.O.o.O.o.O

Ardeth had no time to worry for the others, as the seventh day dawned. His only relief came when Horus boldly swooped down from above, to call out to Ardeth. Proving they had not killed his friend after all, he held out his covered arm, and Horus reached out to land and didn't quite make it.

With some trail and error to attempt to match flight with the winged horse, which paid no mind to either human or Horus, while a normal horse would have spooked, eventually they got it right. As the comforting weight of Horus settled onto his arm, the vain bird of prey preening himself smugly, Ardeth felt sure for the first time that in this he would have victory.

As a falcon would not have, the white belly of a flying horse seeming to rise in the sky with the sun caught the attention of the Ma-jei as nothing else could have. They took this as a good omen, cheering as the winged horse settled into the sand, having easily made the decent. What news of the Army of Anubis he had brought was taken, and the Ma-jei set out, Ardeth atop the silvery winged horse, with wings tucked to its sides as it moved over sand easily.

Only Ardeth felt it lag, strength fading, as it caught sight of Ame Shere.


	28. Sunrise of the Seventh Day

The horizon sun on its heels, at a full gallop it entered the pyramid, only to trot tiredly out triumphantly, held proudly erect and wings held limp against its sides. Only then did Rick notice it was lathered, like a true horse would be, and bled where sand hand cut into the soft flesh above its hooves.

' _It's…they are - mortal, in this place._ ' Rick realized, a surge of fear making his heart sick.

O.o.O.o.O.o.O

"Dad…" Alex whispered his plea, past pained gritted teeth. Rick slid quickly off the winged back of the horse, plucking Alex from its back like a wilted and weathered plant. Hauntingly intelligent eyes glared into his, urging him onward, it was at once both daunting and reassuring, that solid look. It said _more then human_ , but Rick had to wonder _how much_ more then human? It was intelligent, this winged beast, a willing protector of his boy.

Hesitantly, Rick put his hands on each side of that head long and noble head, being them face to face – Rick was regarded by milky blue eyes – and said with sincere gratitude.

"Thank you, I don't know that you can understand me, but thank you so much." Soft looking nostrils twitched and a snort of warm air that smelled of not-horse let Rick know this winged steed thought him to be acting a fool.

 _I am aware and my name is Elektor_ The voice that accompanied those chilled blue eyes informed him gruffly, _you are welcome – the boy is well?_ Rick let go that great head and nodded with a look to Alex who sat in the sand looking up at Rick and then to the winged horse as if he couldn't believe it all.

"You'll be alright Alex, I promise." Rick told his son, dropping an arm around the boy's shoulders.

"I know, Dad." Alex smiled up at him, and earned an equally earnest smile in return. Rick thought they might actually make it thought the day with things alright between them.

"You're still getting grounded." Rick ruffled his boy's hair with a grin; Alex tried to shove the hand away with a roll of his eyes.

"I _know_." Rick sort of dreaded the _thought_ of when Alex would hit his teens. What was he doing, having a kid? Raising him? Rick didn't have the answers to those questions but he thinks it began with getting drunk, falling in love – and marriage to Evelyn Carnahan now O'Connell: one of the best ideas of his life – whoever's idea it had been in the start. (Jonathon sometimes joked that it had been his).

"Rick! Alex?" Evelyn's welcoming holler was like a balm of cold water in this stiflingly humid desert heat. Alex, hearing his mother's voice bolted for the pyramid's opening – waving his arms wildly above his head, a sure sight not to be missed.

"Over here!" Alex called, grinning ear to ear.

Rick got up more slowly behind him, and went to stand behind Alex, watching the arrival. At first he wasn't sure what he was seeing, but a glint of gold and a howl that had the winged horse trotting out of the shade made Rick sure that his wife and her brother were riding upon the backs of two waist-high giant gold hounds; the size of ponies, just about.

They would dwarf Alex, if the two hounds stood beside the boy, was for sure. Jonathan managed to wave acknowledgement at the sight of them: his own gold hound charging ahead with an eager bark.

Rick spared a glace for the silver horse whose wings fanned each side of it, discretely keeping them from the direct light of the sun.

 _Ahead is Auos_ , Elektor spoke, catching Rick's eye _, behind is Tito._ The winged silver horse seemed particularly amused with its own words.

A painful yelp startled Rick to look toward the hounds – Jonathon was only a few steps away, and the hound – Tito, had pricked up it's ears and turned to look over it's shoulders, it growled and Jonathon was so stunned he scrambled up and off as quick as he could – away from the hound, away from the sight of his sister crawling away on the sand from those coming forward from the wilds of Ame Shere.

The whine was a painfully keen sound to hear, and more painful by far was the sight of Tito, spear in its flank raising up from the dust to snarl and snap at Imhotep who Meela followed with quirked lips - someone behind them, a man with a red sash and a grin of delight at the sheer fighting will of the hound, threw another spear.

The first had hit its mark when thrown from behind, the second proved how formidable the hound were. Tito caught the spear in its powerful jaws – like a stick – and crunched down, splintering the shaft into two.

"Leave him alone!" Evelyn demanded of him, furious even as she kept behind the hound that protected her.

A flash of golden fur surged forward, and Auos was beside Tito, snapping at Evelyn to run – to get further back.

Meela stepped forward then, and the hounds snarled greetings that Rick wouldn't have liked to be on the receiving end of. She smiled at them, as if they shared a secret; her nod to them was obscenely respectful.

She notched a bow and let fly an arrow that Rick didn't see, so fast was it's speed.

Rick didn't blink, but it felt like he had to have missed some critical moment of sight, there were two arrows that dug into golden fur and threw the giant hounds to the ground. They whined, licking at the wounds as if expecting them to heal.

Overhead, Rick noticed feeling blinder still, was white winged Elektor – circling and looking enraged enough to dive onto Meela in a plunge to earth.

" **Go back to the Arches, Gate-Keepers**. **You do not belong here**." Meela commanded with a soft surety, and Rick didn't know how she could possess in face of what she had done. She seemed to expect to be obeyed, and to Rick's surprise – she was, overhead a Elektor flew into cloud cover that swallowed the silver winged horse whole – and in the flash of light of sun glinting down the golden hounds were gone, the only sign that they had been was dark golden blood on sand.

Meela turned her attention then to Evelyn backing still too slowly away – Meela started forward, too quickly to be human – and that was when Rick started to run forward: heedless of the fact that Jonathon held Alex back from doing the exact same thing.

Meela pulled her sword from a sheath on her back, and her smile was predatory.

" **You will understand why I do what I do, Sister. Justice must be done. Discord must heed**." In a smooth movement the sword sliced fatally into Evelyn, who gasped in pain and stared wide eyed up at her murderer: betrayed.

Meela smiled almost gently down at her, and then walked on – and faced with attacking Imhotep and Meela or going to his wife's side, Rick knew there was no choice. He cradled her head in his hands, begging, soft hair in his hands and dark eyes gazing up at him and unfocused to the sky above as if to see beyond him.

Nothing Rick said made a difference, Evelyn was dying in his arms, there was nothing he could do – no promise he could make that could bring her back healthy and whole.

Rick watched her die, the murder weapon in his hands, and he couldn't think beyond killing Meela who had killed his wife. A life for a life: a fair exchange.

Rick thought he told Jonathon to watch Alex, aware of his son's suffering but unable to see past his own red haze. The choking pain in his chest, where his heart wasn't anymore a living thing, but dying and twisted – yet was the only proof he had that he was still alive, his body and soul otherwise numb with rage and pain.

The blade in his hand was red – hot with his wife's life blood, and its handle was cold.

Rick O'Connell went into the pyramid at the heart of Ame Shere, and didn't expect to come out again alive.

O.o.O.o.O.o.O

Alex O'Connell was smart (not as smart as his mother, who was dead on the sand) but smart enough to take notice when her murderer – Meela, winked at him, the black Book of the Dead clutched in her fingers as she raised her hand to him as she passed him by.

Alex realized then that he could undo this – and Jonathon listened: took up the burden of his mother's body as Alex led the way into the pyramid – fully intending to bring his mother back to life. She gave him life, it was only right that he give her the same gift.

O.o.O.o.O.o.O

Justice now fully inhabited the body of Meela Nais, reincarnation of Anck-Su-Namun: Chosen vessel of Justice. Imhotep was unaware of this, and Justice intended to keep him so ignorant. That he was pleased – even a little amused – that she had killed Evelyn, reincarnation of Nefertiri: Chosen vessel of Discord. It broke her heart to do so, but already she felt the curse of the Army of Chaos upon the desert.

A desert, which most deemed barren and inhospitable, was in her eyes beautiful and vivid with life. Yet Death was not the only Immortal to bless such a place of cruel beauty, Justice too favored it – and Chaos would see it ruined first among all the places of the world.

Imhotep did not truly understand – not what he was doing – and certainly not what he had done. Justice took the life of Evelyn to make it obvious to her son Alex that the only solution was to bring her back by the Book of the Dead: the same book Imhotep had used to call Justice into the body of her vessel.

Justice imagined that sister Discord would suffer the same fate as she, and Justice would be comforted by her presence and power.

Imhotep walked with her to the heart of Chaos's pyramid, and the powers that Imhotep possessed as Hom-Dai were swallowed up by Chaos. Such was the nature of Chaos, to give and to take.

Imhotep parted from her then, and Justice allowed Jonathon to take the Book of the Dead and pass it onto Alex, even helping with a slip of her hand from the mortal's throat so the boy could finish the spell.

Then Justice faced Discord- whose body was changed, and knew fear.

Chaos had breached the Arch, the Gate to the Mortal Realm stood open.


	29. When All Else Should Fail

_Where would you have us go_? Anceps asked with wary regard to the two mortals beside him. Harry could not spare attention for the battle below if he was to protect those who he wished no harm to come to.

 _You hounds know mortals best, you will see to the safety of Evelyn and Jonathon_. One of the golden beasts tucked its head beneath Harry's hand where he absentmindedly petted it; the other hound licked his chin only once before tucked itself beside Evelyn with a soft _woof_ of greeting. For his part, though Jonathon was alarmed at the golden dog sitting beside him, he did not say anything.

 _As for the winged horses, one will see Ardeth safely to his people – and back to me – while the other is to watch over Alex and Rick_. Harry felt right about that choice, and Anceps pressed its weight to his thigh, telling in not so many words that Anceps would see to Harry's safety, if no one else world.

Harry closed his eyes, through the protectors of the Gates; he would see the battle that would be shortly over with….

O.o.O.o.O.o.O

 _They made it_. Anceps tells him in a soft hiss. Harry echoes the words aloud, triumphantly.

"Harry? What do you mean by ' _they made it'_?" Evelyn's voice is tight with her fear, having seen for herself one winged horse take Ardeth out of Ame Shere, while another had seemed to follow - until back winging desperately straight for the pyramid at the center, the gleaming crystal like a beacon at it's top.

Harry closes his eyes, thinking it cruel to tell her now that it's not necessary for her son's survival - Alex is, after all, out of danger. In the end, he tells her because she has asked – and in this case, he has the answer. He so rarely does these days.

"It was the Bracelet of Anubis; it would have killed him, had he not been within the pyramid before sunrise of the seventh day." Evelyn turns pale, her lips thinning into an unforgiving line. It's what makes what happens next somewhat absurd. A playful bark rings in the silence, Evelyn's legs are promptly taken out from underneath her, she let's out a startled cry but she's in no danger of falling. Not now that she is astride the smug waist-high gold hound.

" _Harry_! What's going on? Where are you taking me?" This last part Evelyn shrieked at the moving hound, an ear twitched but otherwise no heed was being paid to its passenger.

Very purposefully, head held high, it easily carries her to toward the center of the oasis of Ame Shere.

"Evelyn- where are you going?" Jonathon protested an incredulous expression on his face as he trailed a few steps after them. As if impatient, the other gold hound pushed Jonathon atop it; with a playful snarl the golden hounds chased each other toward the pyramid.

 _Go swiftly, friends_. Anceps bid them, receiving a fond approval over the shared bond that linked Harry to the Gate-Keepers, of which Anceps was one. The only one who Harry had ever known the name of, had spoken to – it didn't bother Harry, that lack of personal acknowledgement – the Gate-Keepers were immortal, Harry was not. With Harry at their heart laid both their greatest weakness, and greatest of advantages: for both the Gate-Keepers and Harry.

Already the mortality and death that had birthed Ame Shere poisoned the gold hounds and silver winged horses: they would not, could not die – that was Harry's duty if the sacrifice became necessary – to give them strength and so with a ripple like effect close the Gates. Ame Shere _must not_ (at any cost) push through this world into another. It would find Chaos and give it new power and life.

 _It will not come to that. I will not allow your demise_. Anceps told Harry firmly, who still sat on the ground as if in meditation.

Thorough his bond with the Gate-Keepers, Harry could see and hear though their eyes. He reached out with his mind and magic to touch the mind of the immortal creature who obeyed his command; through the eyes of the white horse who carried Ardeth as its burden, Harry _saw_.

_Ame Shere spread a shadow over the sand, and though it was a bright desert day, darkness pooled into and built like sinister sand castles into the bright blue sky. They were becoming so many, and Ardeth and his Army so few._

_The shadow domes shuddered and shattered to reveal the mockery of life within. The minions of Chaos given physical shape and form. Like rotting jackal headed men they looked, as their eyes caught sight of the Army that crested above the dunes waiting for them to attack._

_Snarls and howls were sounded from drooling mouths, fanged teeth grinned up at moral men._

_Ardeth rallied the_ _Ma-jei, his people – blessed for unknowing generations by Death, who held the desert dwellers and brave warriors and bold survivors in great respect. There was no other Army that Ardeth would stand beside, but more, Death led these people in his mortal vassal, chosen by design and chance._

_The chance that Harry might wake…it touched Harry with awe and sorrow, that patience of Death._

You are worthy of he, and he of you Keeper _. The silver horse touched Harry's mind at last to greet him._ I am Mene. _Harry was glad at last to know this name,_ _but gained no other acknowledgment and turned his attention to what had caught the winged horses' eyes._

_Mene with Ardeth astride stayed steady and silent as the jackal headed manifestations of chaos ran – not crawled – to meet them._

_Though the Ma-jei were not a people to risk their lives needlessly, they cried out in outrage to see these abominations given flesh and form – when Mene snorted in contempt at them and ran to meet their challenge charge – the Ma-jei swept along behind in a wave._

_It was like watching the waves of a ocean clash_ , _the living and the immortal struggling for dominance – or supremacy._

_Harry found himself feeling as if he was fighting along side them, with Ardeth beside him – and not merely watching from behind Mene's eyes._

_They did not smell no matter the look of them or the reality of form, from Mene alone did they shy away from. Perhaps they thought it unnatural that a silver horse had wings, or sensed its immortal nature._

_Harry did not know and Mene did not care._

_All that mattered was the end of them, the death that would send them beyond the Gate._

_There were cries that would haunt Harry in dreams to come: the cries of a man torn from his mount and stabbed into the sand only to hear the meaty thud of a jackal head flying from shoulders to land beside the body of its avenged victim._

_The black blade of a jackal warrior coming through the navel of a Ma-jei warrior as he raised his arms to bring the swipe of his sword onto another jackal head – the look of surprise in his eyes, the blood dripping from his lips as he tried and failed to cry out._

_The smug look of those jackal jaws, the sinister teeth, the eyes that were sometimes black when they were not rotted out._

_All of these Harry would dream of, the memories and might have been: a survivor's guilt though he had not been among them in truth._

_Then there were the things that Harry wished might never have come to pass._

_The battle won - the Ma-jei victories, their cries and cheers for victory snatched from their throats as the immortals rose from the sands – with a laughing howl that chilled Harry to the bone._

_Again did Ardeth lead them, and again warriors of the Ma-jei fell in this battle and succeeded alike._

_Mene realized the trap when Harry did, that they had surrounded themselves with jackal warriors while thinking to take advantage of their clear distaste for the silver immortal horse, they had been lured too deep among the enemy._

_Mene kicked out from behind, and Ardeth swiped out with his sword as jackals seemed to aim for Mene's neck – but no, they reached out for Ardeth when Mene's met the black eyes of a jackal that snarled hot laughter up its snout. That Mene had failed the Keeper and did not know it danced in dead black eyes._

_Ardeth yelled out, never one to do down without a fight – and then with Ardeth at the center of a circle to thick for Mene to shove it's bulk through in time, they raised their swords as one and brought them down onto Ardeth in a wave of flashing metal and red rain._

_Blood, Harry realized, and was aware he was screaming – and that Mene was charging forward, desperately and far too late._

_Ardeth was dead._

_Mene saw that Harry saw the death of every single jackal who had done the deed, but it was not enough – what was done was done, and no one immortal or mortal could undo it._

_Mene nudged at Ardeth, and breathed at his face – his face which was free of ruin and not yet touched with paleness, his eyes closed he looked merely asleep._

_When what should have been warm brown eyes opened to infinity of starry abysses: Harry rejoiced even as he mourned._

_Ardeth was dead, but Death walked now in the land of the mortal. Those starry black eyes looked into Mene and saw Harry – then a jackal laughed, and both swung to look at the jackal with deep abysses eyes._

_Chaos, too, had reached into the living for a shape to define reality._

_" **Hello lover**." Chaos greeted Death, with a smile that promised coming pain in the morning light. _


	30. Sacrifice of Mortal Nature

_Ardeth was dead, but Death walked now in the land of the mortal. Those starry black eyes looked into Mene and saw Harry – then a jackal laughed, and both swung to look at the jackal with deep abysses eyes._

_Chaos, too, had reached into the living for a shape to define reality._

_" **Hello lover**." Chaos greeted Death, with a smile that promised coming pain in the morning light. _

O.o.O.o.O.o.O

_Mene swung his head away from Death's face, his snort of breath blowing wisps of black hair. Where the black eyes of Death were the never ending starry night sky, Chaos had obsidian black, the sort that led from tunnels into a edge of darkness with no sure end at the drop and no way back – a trap._

**_"How are you here?"_ ** _Death demands with a hiss, already crouched in the sand ready to leap up at any unexpected movement._

**_"Between is lost in everywhere, and the Crossroads touch everywhere. I followed Death to find you, are you not pleased?"_ ** _The jackal body Chaos wears like a meat suit, gaps open its jaw in a smile, tongue lulling out between wicked teeth._

**_"No."_ ** _Death does not look to Mene, the white winged horse which puts itself between two Immortals so fearlessly, what has it to fear? It is Immortal itself – but Harry is not Immortal, and Chaos uses a jackals nose to inhale, sharp and primal – as if in that sniff it knows Harry is near._

**_"A Keeper, here?"_ ** _Chaos' eyes rove over the field of blood, from immortal to mortal alike._

**_"Very near."_ ** _Death says, mockingly._

_Harry within Mene stirs restlessly, knowing he can not stay – and tearing his heart in two to not do so._ He must not breach the Gate _, Harry tells Mene and the white horse bucks suddenly, forelegs lashing out at the jackal – knocking Chaos out of its chosen body. The jackal falls and dies, as a puppet with its strings cut must._

_Wings flared and silver hooves raining down on the sand – where Chaos lay dazed though Mene's eyes – it's a magnificent sight as Chaos flees into Between._

_For a moment Mene hesitates._

_In that moment Harry turns his attention to Death, with regret – and Death, recognizing Harry within the white Immortal horse – reaches out, fingers beckoning._

Go. _Harry tells Mene, feeling as if his heart is being torn in two with duty and regret._

_Mene follows Chaos into the Between, silver hooves flashing like lightning, wings like cracking thunder. The oncoming storm._

_Where Mene now goes – Harry can not follow in any other body but his own._

Harry finds himself jerked back into his own right body; Anceps curled about his neck and shoulders. He just _breaths_ for a moment, eyes closed: the scent of the jungle is musty heat and moisture and growing things. The scent of sand, burning earth, is like a faint spice.

 _Harry_ , the mental voice of Anceps tugs at him gently, _what happened?_ A flick of forked tongue flicks his ear for attention, and Harry gives it, opening his eyes.

 _Oh._ Anceps says, whispers soft. Harry's eyes are filled with green flame. He reaches out his hand and twists shadow into his command, place and time are swayed – displaced, and when Harry lets go, he sits at the feet of Discord and Justice.

Harry sways, but stands – even if it isn't easy.

" **Chaos will break past the Crossroads if we do not end this**." Harry tells them, and Discord tucks her arm under his elbow – and Justice at his other side mirrors her sister.

" **You are Burning – you can not Burn here, you will die**." Justice tells him sternly, in a tone that can be called chastising. Discord rolls her eyes skyward, as if Justice should not bother – or should know better.

" **Then _help_ me**." Harry demands, his frowning lips pulled into a snarl of rage.

" **As it pleases you."** Discord takes a step forward, and Harry leans on her to follow, their steps look slow and steady but rooms and halls blur past as they walk three steps and the three of them are where Justice left Imhotep, he spins to see who has dared enter here – and Harry must take one more step forward, alone.

Rick looks up from where he was tossed back by Imhotep.

"Harry? I have to say, you're timing isn't bad." Then he catches sight of the two figures standing at the door, one the lover of Imhotep – Justice within her Chosen, and the other – his mouth drops open, eyes wide in disbelief – the figure of his wife is blurred and changed by Discord, but unmistakably her.

"Evelyn?" Rick's voice is shaky and unsure, but she catches his eyes with hers and smiles with a nod. When Rick looks to Harry, to be sure, Harry nods once before Rick heads toward her at a run.

Harry is glad they will live to have a happy ever after.

Imhotep and Harry stand face to face; Imhotep's eyes are wide as they take in his ages-long warden, with a green fire for eyes. They flicker and spark, seeming never ending – but there is an end, for Harry is mortal still though he takes Immortal duty.

" _Are you a God_?" Imhotep asks, though he does not take a step back and holds his ground boldly before one he perceives to be greater then he is.

" ** _No, I am not_ _– and you will not be, either – if you are found worthy by this_**." Harry answers, softly – his eyes searching the darkness beyond them for something that the shadows hide. His hand gestures to the room at large, but Imhotep knows the power he means – the power that took from him.

" _I do not believe you_." Imhotep hisses, fist clenching – though _what_ he does not believe, that his God in the disguise of Chaos would lie and betray him, or that Harry is not a God –Harry does not ask. Instead he says something unexpected; his eyes fixed on what not even shadows can hide.

" ** _Ask him_**." The shadows give way to a giant, the only human half of him is his face and torso, the rest resembles a scorpion – which sealed a deal millennia old now.

" _Scorpion._ " Imhotep says in awe – the first of Pharaohs, the first son of an Immortal. Imhotep knows his limits with no power of his own, and drops to his knees, his head bowed. Harry does nothing but stand with burning eyes, and Scorpion seems to expect no less or more notice from him then that.

" _I am he_." Scorpion agrees his words like breaking waves; he nods to Harry – in that gesture is nobility that physical appearance can not sway.

" _I serve you_." Imhotep vows, eyes not daring to rise above the ground.

" _We shall see_." Scorpion muses, his taller height giving him an advantage in sight over them all. Harry turns his head too, wondering what has caught his attention – Alex and Jonathon have stridden into the chamber and then falter at the sight of them. It is not they that the Scorpion sees, but the Spear of Osiris.

Harry does not hear what he says or does not say – his horrified attention is drawn to what Imhotep says instead.

" _He is your enemy_!" Imhotep's pointing finger to Rick damns them one and all.

Harry tries to speak, but finds his mouth and tongue caught and tangled with Imhotep's – the Scorpion's eyes are wide and amused by what Imhotep dares – but it puts Scorpion at ease, that Imhotep is his ally as much as Harry is.

Then the warrior that forged a nation that lasted a million years heads toward Rick O'Connell. That he is a warlord damned by a curse with Chaos is obvious; that he means them harm can not be denied.

" ** _Do you know what you have done_**?" Harry demands of Imhotep, when he is freed from that forced kiss. There is triumph in Imhotep's deep brown eyes, but no hint to why Harry asks him a question that seems to have an obvious answer.

" _I will strike when he is weak. I will rule what is mine by right of Hom-Dai. That I will do it – a High Priest of Osiris with the Spear of Osiris is a proof of my right to rule_." Imhotep smiles as he said it, but Harry shakes his head.

" ** _You have no right to the world of the living_**." Harry states softly, aware that he is giving Rick time to find out the secret of the Spear, for Harry dare not touch it – he does not know what he would do to the world after putting aside the Scorpion King. Would he rule it? Or would he ruin it? Harry can not say, not with his eyes burning green like flame and his thrumming blood feeling powerful and alive while boiling him to death from inside out.

" _Death is only the beginning for one who can enter the world of the dead_." Imhotep utters, and there is longing in his tone, what he would deny otherwise to those who did not hear it – but Harry does.

" ** _There are other worlds_**." Harry's lips quirk in amusement at the thought that Imhotep would believe in only two.

" _Show me_." Imhotep demands, eyes flicking to where Rick – the Spear of Osiris in hand – is prodding the Scorpion King back and away from his child and wife and brother by law and Imhotep's own lover.

" ** _You will see them without me, that is what you have done with your kiss. You will be their Keeper after me_**." The words from Harry's lips are blessing and curse both, and Imhotep wide eyed shakes his head in denial. His fingers touch his still tingling lips. Harry for his part is content – he knows that Imhotep will find his place among Immortals – and perhaps peace: power is what drove Imhotep, and now he will have it – and have to protect with it. For what is protection but another from of power and rule? More beneficial then what Imhotep is used to, oh yes – but a power he will not abuse – for there are the Gate-Keepers.

Harry puts his hand to where Anceps rests, silent and still – perhaps grudging a new Keeper, or judging. Anceps slithers onto his hand curling lightly about his wrist and arm; like an offering, Harry stretches out his hand with Anceps upon it to Imhotep. Awed, Imhotep allows the transfer of Anceps from Harry to his own person, Anceps looks back to Harry, flicking his forked tongue and his eyes glistening black as if tears would fall if possible.

" _You will die_." Anceps says to Harry, not haltingly but full of sorrow. Harry nods acknowledgement, a fact he can't deny while feeling his own Immortal powers burning within his heart.

" _No – I will put a stop this. I swear_." Imhotep knows what it means to kill, and to die – but to live? Imhotep has only had one life to live, and tried many times to save the life of his beloved, and Harry thinks perhaps the duties of a Keeper –made Immortal by Imhotep's own curse of Hom-Da, will suit the once High Priest better then they had Harry.

Harry watches and burns as he weaves a spell to keep his word – this place is tied to Chaos – and the mummified Pygmy had asked him to save it, their home. Harry would keep his word but such a place as this could not stay within the Mortal Realm, or else Chaos would find again a hold here and now – so Harry would see that it was sent into the Between with the end of the Scorpion King's curse: a curse that would end with the Spear of Osiris.

"Harry!" Rick yells the warning that Harry doesn't see coming.

So occupied with his magic and spells, Harry doesn't pay mind to Rick – who hurls the Spear of Osiris toward the Scorpion King who hovers near Harry. To Rick it must look as if Scorpion means him harm – but the opposite, Harry feels later – is truer.

Scorpion snatches Harry up carefully up in his pincher claws, turning so his armored back will defect the Spear of Osiris.

Harry doesn't see Imhotep snatch the spear from the air, and the grin of triumph he gives Rick – doesn't see Rick scream out a curse that Imhotep doesn't have to understand the language of to know the meaning - and his grin is smug and sure.

Imhotep turns back to where he left Harry standing behind him – sure that Harry will be there – but he is not. Scorpion King turns his head over his shoulder and sneers to see the weapon he is vulnerable to in "allies" hands.

" _You have betrayed me_?" Scorpion asks his grip about Harry steady and protective. He brings Harry to see what he does, and Imhotep's skin is pale with worry.

" _You will let him go – give him to me_!" Imhotep demands, and Scorpion lifts Harry onto his shoulders and Harry must either hold on or fall – and the Scorpion King is sitting on the roof above an abyss that opened up in the stone below. Harry would rather not test his life or death in a fall, so he holds on tightly.

Scorpion's answer, when it comes, is simple.

" _No_." Menacing claws clench and click together like swords, the fury of the Scorpion King overcoming his fear of his own curse coming to an end.

Imhotep throws the Spear of Osiris, sure and true – he trusts Harry to take care of himself.

No one, Harry notes with amusement, was paying attention to who they should have been. Rick leaps with the Spear of Osiris: his grip around it tight, it plows into Scorpion's chest, and dark startled eyes meet Rick's – Rick will fall with the Scorpion King – and Harry.

"Go to Hell and take your Army with you!" Rick declares before it can be asked of him - questioned, and Scorpion nods nobly.

It is then that Rick takes notice of Harry on Scorpion's back – and bellows out a command unthinkingly.

"No! Harry – get off – _now_!" Harry can't though, and uses his magic one last time – sand is all round them, and sand is what he thinks of as the curse comes to an end: as Harry's own spell takes hold and the Oasis of Ahm _Shere_ is sent Beyond, where Chaos lies.

" **Death is not the end**." Is what he tells Rick with a smile, which Rick can not return past a horrified awareness of what has happened – what Harry has _caused_ to happen.

Harry knows nothing more of events as they unfold for Rick O'Connell's family, his mortal life burned out.

O.o.O.o.O.o.O

Death shivers as sand takes the Army of Chaos, and he sees where this sand is going – the golden pyramid of the Scorpion King's dreams is swallowing all that links Chaos here.

There is only one thing that can do this, _here_ , is the death of an Immortal – and only one Immortal can die. Death shivers under a hot sun standing on backing earth that has become sand over ages of time.

Death goes –fleas - as his people, the Ma-jei cry out a cheer he never hears.

Death goes – and follows.

Death always has found what he follows, and what he finds is mortal and frail and small and burnt out of power.

"What now?" Harry asks - a ghost of himself, in the arms of Death, where he belongs. Death breathes in and smells nothing, but does not know he weeps until Harry kisses his tears away, a tingle of sensation, that bare bush of lips.

" **Justice comes, and…and the Immortal Keeper** …" Death presses his kisses upon a ghost of his lover. He is cold and the only thing giving him form is Death himself, but Death does not care.

To see the bodies of Meela and Imhotep here stirs Harry to look up, Death only cares that Harry still has the will to do something – even if it is to look upon those who were once his tormenters.

" **What can be done**?" Imhotep demands of the two Immortals, Immortal himself now he kneels beside Harry –reaching out to touch, but dares not when Death sends him a look of loathing that stills his hand as if there is still bone beneath.

"What now?" Harry echoes, the only words he can say – a shadow, a ghost - a mockery and mimic of life.

" **They are safe Harry, I saw that Discord left the Mortal Realm – Evelyn has her Rick and Alex and Jonathon. They survived, and we played the parts of a final death. They are safe, I swear**." Justice murmurs and Death allows only his sister to touch Harry's cheek and hair: a reassuring gesture lost on this echo of life.

" _He will soon be lost_." Anceps whispers, Death knows that Harry's final spell tied him to the Beyond, as surely as it tied Ahm _Shere._

_" **Leaving me alone to take his place among you**?" Imhotep asks of them, disbelieving that they would allow it. _

_" **As was done before him, and will never be done for you**." Justice says with little sympathy, this is an Immortal she loves – and she will never know what it is to hold her dying lover's ghost. _

" **I will Fade with him**." Death murmurs softly into Harry's ear, a promise not to leave him.

Golden fog and silver clouds come from the Crossroads; and two healed gold hounds and two silver winged horses surround them – no, surround Harry, with Anceps and the Keeper Immortal at the middle, eye to eye with Harry's echoing presence.

" _That will not be allowed, Death. Harry is to be a Keeper – a Gate-Keeper_." Anceps raises his two heads, and one head fights the other until the other head dies; fades until black scaled Anceps is with only one head.

At first this desperate act seems to garner no response.

"What now?" Harry sighs though he does not breathe. Death is still wrapped around him, and feels the warmth spreading though the tingle of sensation at keeping the echo in his arms. Harry blinks and there is green fire flickering to life in his eyes.

" **No – no, he's Burning still**!" Death kisses still lips, numb but warm now, trying in van to quench the flames of Immortality that will Burn away the frail echo in his arms. The heat is within Harry, so to Death it is only the warmth of a distant fireside, still Death could not save the echo of Harry from this.

The others do not try; they look silently to Anceps, who seems to expect nothing less.

" _Let him Burn_." Anceps says, and it is cruel to say so– Death thinks, " _he must Burn to be Born_." Anceps says nothing else to explain, but Death ceases his attempts, knowing them to be useless. Yet Death con not help it, he still does not let Harry go when the green fire from within becomes the fire on his skin.

" **No**!" Imhotep protests, but Anceps tightens about the wrist he would reach out with to touch Harry – who is quietly consumed by green fire, Death has no tears for the heat of the blaze: and all that was of Harry is ashes like gold.

Death watches it with rapt attention, like a bird of prey awaiting some sign.

From the gold peeks red feathers, and hatched from the ashes of gold is a little phoenix, the youngest and last of the Immortal Gate-Keepers.

" _Welcome_." Anceps sings out with Mene and Elektor and Auos and Tito. Gem bright green eyes regard them all with solemn serenity. Death reaches out a hand for the little phoenix to touch, and with naked wing, he does so.

The phoenix chick sneezes off gold ash, and Harry leans his body against Death – for a phoenix knows that in death is life.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * ["Desert Blossom (The Scent of Innocence)"](https://archiveofourown.org/works/462870) by [Abby_Ebon](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Abby_Ebon/pseuds/Abby_Ebon)
  * ["Drinking Games (Are Not For Children)"](https://archiveofourown.org/works/462877) by [Abby_Ebon](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Abby_Ebon/pseuds/Abby_Ebon)




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